


Star Wars: Gaanla Aliit

by Captain_Kiri_Storm



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: AU-Jango Lives, Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Bounty Hunters, Clone Politics, Clone Wars, Cody needs a hug, Dark Mace Windu, F/M, For a Friend, Gen, Jango doesn't die, Lots of words in Mando'a, M/M, Mandalorian, Might or Might not Remember to translate, Protective Obi-Wan, The Jedi need to wake up, rexsoka, smol child Ahsoka
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 05:09:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 27,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10073426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Kiri_Storm/pseuds/Captain_Kiri_Storm
Summary: Instead of dying on Genosis, Jango Fett took one nasty shot to the stomach that almost left him sliced in two, Darth Maul style. The fearsome bounty hunter has been shot, stabbed, strangled, poisoned, left for dead, damn near electrocuted, and starved more times than he would care to tell you. Getting on Cradossk's bad side tends to leave you dead. Not filthy rich, which is where Jango wants to beInstead of kicking back on his ship and enjoying a cold beer, Jango and the cadet he's adopted as his son get swept up into one of those death traps the Jedi call transporters. From there, the wounded are shipped back to Kamino...to await either destruction or redeployment.There's a reason Jango got kicked out of the Mandalorian Guard and the Jedi are about to learn why.





	1. I Hate Sand

Jango had decided that he hated sand. That was ironic, seeing that he had _loved_ going to the beach as a kid, but there was something babout getting several handfuls of sand down steel armor that just ruined your day. And the heat. The heat was worse than Southern Soliel during a heatwave, which was saying something. He should have remembered to bring an extra crate of water bottles in his neat little Firespray, _Slave 1_. Not that the Republic wanted to let him go to the pfassking _grocery store_ after the whole "You punched a Kaminoan in the face _because_ " incident. And the fact that they were happily trying to screw him out of the money they owed him while treating his clones like poodoo. So he had a reason to be mad and something to say about it.

Irene Terra would have gotten the bombs blown half of Kamino to hell. Jango had casually mentioned that to the Devil in Mem's Skin named Mace Windu. Windu had given him a long look before stalking off. True to form...he had been lectured once again by the Jedi. Apparently, the Jedi mattered more than one irritated Mandalorian. Oh. And he got asked if he could please follow orders for once in your life and don't get passed out drunk on the stairs again. Shaak Ti had actually thrown his whiskey into the ocean. She was one of the sane ones, the ones that agreed the clones needed to be treated as the men they were. But her power was limited. She and Aayla Secura were known as the "Renegade Jedi".

Who knew the Jedi turned on their own like a bunch of womp rats?

And that was when the blaster bolts went flying. Jango had done his share of training the Alphas (and making sure that they would be able to function in the Real World), so he dropped the deck. Boba jumped beside him, fear in his eyes. The kid still didn't like it when he wore his armor. Boba had a slight speech impediment (hence his name, which loosely translated to Lucky) and that had actually listed him as a defect that needed to be destroyed. Jango had threatened to burn the place down and Obi-Wan made a nice little speech about Jango just wanting a son of his own. So he got the kid and quickly proved to be the worst father ever. Which was why he and his son were cowering behind rocks on what was becoming an active battlefield.

_I thought this was supposed to be peaceful negotiations...?_

The Jedi had about the same idea of "peace" as one Captain Irene Terra did. Jamgo grabbed his son's hand and dragged him out of the line of fire. His jetpack was only good for one. Thanks to a better diet (nutrient bars sucked and Jango liked to cook), Boba had gotten a little weight on his skinny bones. He was doing pretty good now, but he had gotten too heavy for Jango to just fly them out of there. He pushed the kid behind an out cropping of rock and started shooting. From what he could see, the droids had decided to pay a little visit. Jango just pulled up his HUD and started having a little fun. He could pop tin cans all day. After this, he'd take Boba and get his credits. Naboo was nice this time of year, he'd heard.

"You did this!" A dark skinned Jedi swung his lightsaber at Jango's head. The Mandalorian jumped back. He took a few wild shots at the Jedi, only to have them thrown back at his head. Wasn't there an old saying about bringing a knife to a gun fight? Hadn't the Jedi ever heard of it? "You did this! You brought them here to kills us all!" The Jedi rushed him, fire in his eyes. Jango jumped back. He grabbed the first thing he could think of, a rock, and hurled it at the Jedi's head. The Jedi sliced it in two.

_**That** didn't work. Oops._

"Why would I kill the people who owed me money?!" Jango yelled. He kept taking shots at Windu, for indeed it was he, and trying to get out of the way. "What do you think I am?! A scrub hunter?!" Jango Fett was many things (Terra referred to him as The Mando), but he was good at what he did. He kept dodging blaster bolts and droid attacks. Just because Windu wanted to settle a score and make it look like an accident. "I thought you people didn't do this!"

"Daddy!" Boba screamed and went running put from his hiding place, a droid on his tail. He went straight to his father, terror in his eyes. Jango was about to yell when something sliced into his midsection. Instead, he screamed. And fell in a heap, blood soaking the ground around him. Jango struggled to get himself up, the pain making him gasp for breath. It swam around him, making him almost certain that his son yanked the helmet off of his head. "Daddy! Daddy! It's gonna kill me!"

"He's dead." Windu kicked his side. "And good riddance to bad rubbish."

Jango coughed up a little blood. "I'm not dead yet, you son of a bitch!" He grabbed his blaster and took a shot at the Jedi. The Jedi yanked his weapon away and sent it sprawling across the ground. He leapt away in the battle, leaving a severely bleeding Jango to deal with his son. "B-boba..." He coughed, spitting up blood. "The ship..." he closed his eyes, strength waning. He was only human. "Coded to your DNA..."

"No!" Boba grabbed his arms. "No! Daddy!"

"Love...you..." And then it all went black, just before the pain stopped. It was one last mercy brought by a people he had left behind...for good. There was a reason why he was an exile. There was a reason why he couldn't go home. There was a reason why no one wanted him anymore. And Jango knew why. He had failed his son. He had failed the others, the ones he swore to protect. He was going to leave them to Kamino...


	2. Panic Attacks

Jango woke up with a splitting headache. He wanted to sob from the pain of it, it wasn't often that you got brained with rocks and stabbed with a lightsaber, but he had to stay strong. It took Jango a few moments to wake up, though. Whatever he'd been given was **good**. Much better than the pain killers in a bottle (usually Lirian white lightning, XXX) that he kept in his jetpack case. Yes, he knew not to have homebrew alcohol in with his jetpack, but he got hurt. Often. And this was just another case of that, he thought. Jango reached for his armor, but instead of moving, his hands were cuffed to the bed. Jango frowned. He tried to move his arms. Ues, they felt like lead, but he could still move them.

Right? Or not... He shook his hands a little, trying to figure out what was going on. Jango opened his eyes and looked up. _His wrists were chained to the medical bed_. Jango jumped, or tried too. He started yanking against the chains and cursing. This was no way to treat a man! He curled and rolled over as best he could. The chains raked over his delicate wrists. Jango almost screamed from the pain. Stitches pulled on his stomach and threatened to come undone. Jango cursed more. He needed to get out of here! He had no idea where he was, but Jango knew from a stint as a Hutt's slave that waking up in chains never went well for you. He cursed vividly and twisted around as best he could. The blankets spilled from his "bed" and landed on the floor.

That was when Jango saw he was bare _sheb_ naked.

"Hey!" Jango raised his head. His voice sounded like he'd swallowed a throat full of sand. Which, given the taste of it, was very possible. He twisted around a little more and felt the chains dig into his wrists. "Hey! Why the hell am I chained up here?!" Had Dooku followed through on his promise to see the proud Mandalorian humbled at his feet? Jango had a sneaky feeling that Dooku lacked impulse control. That would actually explain a lot. The man jumped on every bit of intrigue he could think of. Even opening Dathomir up to Zygerria even more than it already was. "Hey! Don;t you bastards ever come and take care of your guys?!" When he was chained up in Ziro's palace, being chained meant you were about to get pounded up the ass. And there was a strong slave trade in native Mandalorians.

Jango knew that fact all too well. He kept struggling as best he could. And then his bladder started to hurt. He whined in desperation before finally just having no choice but to piss in the bed. He swore and tried to get up. The chains held fast. He could hear people talking, so he knew they were around. Why didn't they just help him?! Jango had no idea why he was chained, but chances were it wasn't good. He swore and kept on struggling. This was the last thing he needed to deal with. It hurt and he just wanted to go have a bubble bath with Boba. Or play with his son. Something where he hadn't pissed his legs! He swore and twisted around. It really hurt him! He needed to get _out of here_!

Images flashed in front of his mind. A powerful Hutt, his purple body covered in glowing tattoos, looking over a young Jango. The guards forcing him to his knees. The first time he'd been taken. The time when he _severely_ damaged a man he was supposed to service. The hot, bitter taste covering his mouth. Jango started choking, even though there was nothing in his mouth or nose. Hazel eyes locked with the air. He was panicking. He had to get out of here! Terror seized his limbs and made him freeze up. Jango was dragged back to the place he'd swore he'd never go back. The agonizing torture of a Hutt's palace. His mouth was wide open and he choked on the air. The stench of piss only helped it out.

"I don't care what Korda says!" a voice snapped. It sounded like his, just the accent was a little different. Boots raced through the ship. Jango tried gulping air and he only reacted when strong arms wrapped around him. Jango felt the chains drop off his arms and he gave a sob. Someone kissed the top of his head. "You haven't been on this hell ship long, have you? And what got you?"

Jango was looking at himself, just with fewer scars. He pressed himself into the arms, trying not to give himself away. There was no telling what had been programmed into this clone. "I...I don't know." He tried to block Windu from his mind, but he could still feel the pain stab him. Or the painkiller was wearing off. Maybe both. "Impaled? I...I don't know. It happened so fast..."

"What are you?" The clone looked him over with quick eyes and tried to get Jango on his feet. From the looks of things, his clones had no problem with being naked. He would have to do that, too, just as long as it took to find Boba and get out of here. Xirl was really nice in the summer. "Looks like some sort of vibrosword, if you asked me. But no one does. I'm just a stupid meat droid." The clone draped Jango's weight over his body. Jango grunted. That jarred his pined side. "My name's Slick, if you care. Most don't. Most just tell me what to do..." He trailed off and sighed a little.

"Coyote." It was the first name Jango could think of. He gasped, though, and tried to keep up. Slick nodded after a few minutes. "Why...why wasn't I in medical?"

Slick barked a harsh laugh. "You a shiny?" he asked. He looked at the man like he was half mad. "Clones don't get medical! Well, clones like you and me. Korda is gonna be pissed, though. You might want to keep clear of him. All his pelt Alphas got lose and scattered." His face changed again. "And Force keep them free." His voice was soft, wistful. This man wanted to be free. But he wasn't allowed that. He was just a slave for the Jedi to use up and throw away. That was all he was and all he'd ever be. And he just wanted to get out. If Jango had been thinking right, he'd try to get the man in his side. "I'm sick of his bullshit, you know. The damn Seppies have it right. We're just slaves."

"Be careful." Jango coughed as Slick laid him out on a bed. Even now, he shuddered and tried not to flinch as Slick crawled beside him. Jango knew he was supposed to cuddle back, but it was so hard... He feared the men who had used him as a slave. Jango never touched anyone. Not even when Cad Bane went sleeping around. Jango just drank in the corner. He'd never told anyone what happened to him. As far as Jango knew, abuse like that didn't happen to _men_. And if Jango flat out told people that he'd been a slave for the Hutts, they'd treat him like a diseased dog. You could respect a man who didn't like to sleep around. But you couldn't respect one that was used like a Twi'lek slave.

Slick wrapped around him like a sweaty blanket. Jango tried not to vomit over the side.

He was going to tell Terra to burn the whole frakking _Republic_ down and damn what Cradossk said about bad PR!


	3. The Transporter From Hell

Jango wasn't quite sure how he took the bondage cuddling from his clone without freaking out. Slick might have shared an exact copy of his DNA (and damn, Jango knew he had a _fine_ face, but it got old looking in a mirror all the time), but Jango still didn't like being held. He just did not like it. It scared him. What also scared him was being stuck on a ratty old transporter and left in the old. With about three other clones. He had Blaze, a nasty tempered commando, Sicarius, a nasty looking ARC trooper who needed a bath, Slick, the cuddler, Top, the crazy man who shouted about little green men reading your mind and legit wore a tinfoil hat under his helmet, and Thunder. Thunder was the lone sane person, but he looked like he loved his crazy little family. That was all fun and games, but Jango just wanted to get his son and go home.

Oh, and he was going to sue Windu's _shebs_ off for attempted murder. As his good friend Ti said, you could sue a ham sandwich. You just might bot get any money from it. Speaking of ham sandwiches, Jango really wanted one right about now. And a good flash of Danine whiskey. And that really good mustard you got when you decided to go to that tourist trap on Radii. Which Jango might or might not have taken his son too, just because his little boy wanted to eat some over priced, under spiced food and watch the fish. Jango just went to ogle the hot Zeltron servers. Boba loved the place, though, and had had the greatest time. Jango told himself that he was going to get his son, get a hot Twi'lek girl friend, and he was going to sue Mace Windu. In that order.

Though the hot Twi'lek might come last, depending on where they went. Jango shook his head and chewed on the ration bars. They scraped his teeth, amost making his gums bleed. Top babbled non-sense to himself and played a clapping game with Blaze. For a guy that boasted to know how to kill every known species in the galaxy (you killed them by putting holes in their hearts/brains according to Jango), he was really tolerant of the crazy guy. There seemed to be a strange brotherhood between all of them. Jango roughly equated it to his time in the Mandalorian Guard. In typical Fett fashion, though, that had ended in a dramatic explosion. Quite literally. Perhaps Dooku should have realized just who he decided to make the template for the Great Clone Army.

The hold door opened and a sour looking General Korda stomped in. Jango rolled his eyes and washed his dry, rough bar down with water. Why the hell did he want to talk to this bantha _shebs_ walking around like a person? If you translated "korda" in one of the _Mando'a_ dialects, it roughly came out as "I like sex" or "I do anal". Jango tried to choke back the laugh. Saying that he spoke perfect Lycash would be the perfect way to get his dumb ass killed. He watched, though, as Korda marched through the ranks and fixated on a certain Man Who Was Not A Clone.

"Did they not teach you respect?" Korda softly asked. Jango cursed under his breath. The ones that spoke softly were the ones you needed to look out for. Jango knew for a _fact_ that those were the ones that carried the biggest sticks. Jango added Korda to his list of people to sue. The guy looked good enough. He had light blonde hair and eyes like chips of blue ice. His right eye was swollen up pretty good and he had some patchy scars on the rest of his body. Jango crossed his arms. Korda looked weak to him. He needed to start working out more, because Jango had more than enough muscles on his body. He might have been disarmed, but he still had his guns. "Or are you one of the defects like the blithering idiot over there?"

Jango shrugged and stood up. "People tried to teach me respect," he shrugged. And a few other things. Those people had died, screaming in agony. "But I guess it didn't take. What got a hold of your _face_ , old man?" It looked like something with some nasty claws had decided to tear him up. "You piss off a Zabbie or something? They're supposed to be real mean, Korda. Real mean."

"You insolent little whelp." Korda tapped his fingers on his crossed arms. The little wheels in his stupid little mind were turning. Jango offered him the Cocky Smile™. It was something Jango was rather good at, if he decided to tell the truth. "For your information, it was a swarm of Thunian wart-hornets. Unlike you, you disgusting little defect, I was doing my duty to the Republic. You have just earned three weeks in confinement for this display of insolence. It starts immedietly whenever we hit Kamino."

Jango gaped at him. "You're mad!"

"Do you want to make it four?" Korda asked. "I would sit down, if I were you. If you annoy me too much, I'll be forced to cut your rations down to half. And that goes for all your "brothers" on this ship. Please sit down, trooper. You must remember from your classes that you are **not** a Republic and you do **not** have the right to question a General." Jango sank down in his seat, not believing it. What the hell had happened in the space of ten years?! His clones were supposed to become full citizens! They had papers for the Mandalore system and everything!

Slick stood up. "Then you'll have to punish me too. I put him up to it."

Jango looked at Slick like he'd just grown three heads. "What?! You never said anything about it!" Why was this clone doing this? It was smarter to just let him take the heat for it. And Slick was lying. He'd never put Jango up to anything. Instead, he'd tried to get the older man to keep his head down and not make waves. This...made no sense to him. Why would you do something like this?

Korda nodded and turned in the sharpest about-face Jango had ever seen. "Then I will notify Kamino as soon as we land."

He waited until Korda had left the room. Jango rounded on the other man, barely able to understand what had happened. "Now why the hell did you do that?!" he almost yelled. "Are you **crazy**?!"

Slick set his jaw. "We need to talk." And then he went to his sleeping pod and didn't respond until they docked on Kamino.


	4. We Are Brothers All

It was a chilly ride back to Kamino. Korda did hold true to his word, cutting rations for all the clones. Top looked like a wounded puppy until Sicarius fed him half of his ration bar. It looked like the clones got about two ration bars per meal. Jango thought that was fair enough. He might not have _liked_ ration bars, but he was willing to eat them if he had too. When he'd been a slave on Tattooine, he'd been happy to get any kind of sustenance that didn't come from the guard's reproductive organs. Or if they didn't make him eat like a dog. The Hutt he'd been enslaved too had employed a Dathomiri witch as one of his body guards. She might not have thought much of men in general, but she had been a nasty fighter and worth her weight in gold. Xura also liked to make Jango eat off the floor with only his mouth and to lick up all the little crumbs.

In the end, not even the Force had saved her. A pair of DD-7 bolts to the head had blown that skull of hers to little bits.

Jango huddled in the back of the transporter, well aware of the glares aimed his way. If he wanted to be honest, this wasn't the first time he'd let an entire squadron down. When he'd tried to be a part of the Mandalorian guard, it had failed miserably. Jango still wasn't sure what caused the explosion that took out the royal barge. He just knew that it was his fault and he'd failed. Jango had fled rather than face the rest of his friends. He was still running, even today. Would Kamino destroy him? Jango knew he was too free thinking, too willing to fly in the face of authority. What could he do? He could try to run from this ship they second they docked. But what about Boba? What about his little boy? Who would take care of Boba if he was taken away?

Blaze dropped beside him. "I think you're very brave." Jango looked away. He wasn't their brother. He was just one man lost in a sea of bad choices. "No, seriously. We all hate Korda. He's a bantha _shebs_ if I ever saw one. For all I know, he's a Seppie plant. Honest to Manda, I hope he is. Because then we could line him up and blow his karking **head** off!"

About five minutes later, Korda crackled over the speakers. "Alright, you worthless meat bags! We're about to dock with Kamino. Lucky and Slick, I'll see you two up on the bridge. You each have confinement for two weeks, do you understand me?" He dropped the mic after that, leaving Jango to give Blaze a sad look. He staggered to his feet and got up. Slick walked beside him, his face white. Jango had no idea what was about to happen, but he could bet it wasn't good. Jango walked through the rest of the ship and got a look at the officer's quarters. The beds looked quite luxurious compared to the cold, hard metal of the deckplates. Jango added a few more things to his lawyer list: false imprisonment of a Republic citizen, attempted murder, kidnapping, and now, probably, abuse.

Korda was waiting for them, his arms crossed. A few other officers looked at the two men. Korda started pacing, his jawline clenched. "Well. Look at what I have. A pair of defective little clones. Both of you look like you need to be brought a few pegs lower. But thank your lucky stars that I'm not going to be the one in charge of your punishments." He turned to a sour faced looking man. "Bosun? Read the charges."

The man pulled out his comm. "For one count of disorderly conduct, the recommended punishment is ten lashes. For two counts of mouthing off to your commanding officer, the recommended punishment is two weeks in confinement. How does the Captain stand?"

"The Captain is in agreement with these charges." Korda swept in front of both men, his gaze like blue ice. Jango tried not to gape at him. ** _Lashes_**?! Where were they, ancient **_Danu_**? What sort of civilized people thought it was perfectly okay to beat another person? Jango couldn't keep the look off his face. He just couldn't believe this! Korda stopped in front of him and yanked his chin up. "You. I've seen your look before. I know exactly how your stupid little mind operates. You're the defiant kind. You're the one who thinks he can get away with anything." Korda slapped Jango across the face with his free hand. "Here's a hint, defect. You're **can't**. And the same goes to you!"

Slick shuddered and bowed his head. "A-as you wish, General."

"Good." Korda produced a pair of binders and roughly clipped Jango's hands behind his back. Jango grimaced. Korda stepped on his booted foot, causing a cry of pain to escape his lips. The blonde man gave him a thin smile. "You'll be doing a lot more screaming, clone, before this is all over." He roughly pushed and started moving the man along to the dock. Jango closed his eyes. He could help but start to cry. This was what it had felt like the first time he was enslaved.

One of the officers started to laugh. "Look at that one! He's crying! He's scared! Here's a hint, defect. Don't make trouble of you're not willing to deal with the results!"

Jango just turned his head and focused on getting through these next two weeks.


	5. Kamino

Jango held himself as he waited for the ship to dock. This felt just like it did when he was sold to that Hutt. And it was his own damn fault he was sold, too. He'd gotten kicked out of the Mandalorian guard (fled, more like) and he was drowning his sorrows in beer. When he woke up, he was naked and in chains. That...night...had been terrifying, to say the least. He had never been touched before, by anyone, and his new Masters must have picked up on that. They had been very rough with him, leaving the poor man bloodied and torn. But what could he do? He had just been a slave. Jango had had to wait until they were all drunk and his chains were gone to shoot them.

Blaze touched his hands as they walked out. His clone looked away quickly. Korda marched down the ship and tapped Jango with what he knew to be a stun baton. The man grimaced. He followed, though. Every step hurt the injured skin on his belly, but he followed. Slick walked beside him, his jaw set. For the life of him, Jango had no idea why the other man had decided to share in his punishment. This would be a fool's errand. Why would Slick risk himself for another man? One of the guards kicked Jango's knees. The Mandalorian grimaced, but kept on his feet. He still walked, his head held high. He gritted his teeth after a few minutes. That kick had **hurt**!

Korda walked them down through what had to be several miles of hall. Jango took a steadying breath. He could do this. He could take care of himself, he could grab Boba, and he could sue the _shebs_ off the entire GAR. When he got out of here, the GAR was going to be looking at the mother of all lawsuits. It was just a proven fact. Jango knew a good lawyer. He also owed the bounty hunter several hundred credits, which would mean that Jango would pay no legal fees. He started making yet another list of things to sue Korda with, this one including "mental and physical abuse". They were going to beat him, just like they did on ancient Danu. Because some dumb _chakkar_ decided to treat the clones like common criminals.

_Di'kuts. The lot of them._

The icy man turned on his heels after they had used a lift to go down some ten flights of stairs. Jango had counted and memorized an escape route. Oh, how he was going to have fun with this. And, after this, he was going to write a book. Or do a HoloNet show. Or something where he got to roll in credits and rub it in Vizsla's face. Jango was going to be living it up in a Coruscanti penthouse by the end of this. Korda would be under the metaphorical bridge if he was lucky. Korda looked Jango over and nodded to himself. Why was Jango getting a bad feeling about this man? For all he knew, Obi-Wan Kenobi skinned puppies and ate them. Alive. Not this stupid excuse for a human being.

"I still don't like your look, clone," Korda hissed. His blue eyes narrowed dangerously. Slick gulped and looked down. Jango ignored him. He just shrugged and looked at the other man with cold eyes. "Yes, I know you think you're hot stuff. You can kill the droids like all the other meat heads in this army. But here's a hint: you're replaceable. _Expendable_. Get it through your thick skull that I can replace you with ten others that look just like you and act a thousand times better if I so desire. And I just might so desire right now. Keep up this bantha shit and you will see yourself on the next meat barge. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal." Jango would have saluted if his hands were behind his back.

One of the guards grabbed Slick and started dragging him off. The clone walked with his head down. His eyes were dull and broken, the fire Jango was so used too just an ember of what it used to be. The man swore under his breath. But they pulled the cuffs off and shoved Slick's bruised wrists into manacles. Jango's eyes widened. He tried to pull away from his guards, but the man kicked him between the knees. Jango yelped and fell. He almost missed it when one of the guards cracked a whip over Slick's now bare back. The man _screamed_. His back arched and he yanked on the cuffs. But they kept at it, cracking the whip over his back again and again and again. Slick's body twisted like a snake. He screamed and wailed, his eyes wild.

" _Vod_! _Gaa'tayl ni_!" Slick screamed. He tried yanking, but all that did was rip up his already injured skin. He wailed aloud. Jango tried to get away in earnest. But they finished Slick soon and threw the man into the ground. He fell in a heap, shivering. The blood shone on his torn and battered back. The guards grabbed Jango next and forced his hands into the cuffs. The man cursed. He tried to bite the other man, but only received a slap for his troubles.

Korda had a sick smile on his face. And he didn't stop the guards as he received far more than ten lashes. By the time he passed out, Jango had counted at least sixteen. He couldn't take the pain anymore and the blows felt like they were coming from far away. He could hardly breathe from the pain. Dimly, he could hear Slick screaming. His mind thought he was back on Tattooine again and he wondered why he could hear himself cry out.

Then the darkness came. Merciful, merciful darkness that took the pain all away.


	6. Strong Enough to Bend

Jango woke up and wondered why it hurt so much to move his arms. The bounty hunter/mercenary/exiled-Mandalorian grimaced and raised his head, about to order Ti or Kad to do something like find the heating pad. He wasn't as young as he once was and the two novice hunters he had taken under his wings could return the favor once in awhile. He picked his head up, wondering why he wasn't in the belly of his ship or the _Star Bird_ 's. Trust Ti and her Kuati sense of mysticism to make up weird names for ships that didn't need them. His mouth was dry, too. Jango cursed again. If he had gotten injured on a job, it was those two _di'kut_ 's job to take care of him! They were **partners**. _Aliit_. **_Burc'ya_**. It was the nice thing to do.

" _Ad be a_ bantha!" Jango hissed. He rubbed his head and wondered just what had hit him. It was almost like being back in the damn Hutt's palace. Where they... _beat_ him and did other things to his body. ~~Raped~~ **_hurt_** him. Or did things that Jango didn't want to think about for the sake of his sanity, shaky as it was, thank you very much. The man stumbled to his feet, and his hands meet steel bars. All the color drained from his face. And all the memories of what had just happened flashed inside his head. This...was not good. It was _very_ not good. It was so very _not good_ that Jango wasn't sure what language he should use to portray just how bad this was. The Mandalorian growled softly. " _Gar or'dinii_!"

A guard walked by, holding one of those cursed shock sticks. Jango eyed with with cool hazel eyes. "You!" the man snapped. "You speaking the savage! Shut up and stop that or it'll be your hide!"

A good part of Jango was tempted to snap back with something in _Mando'a_ , but he did value his skin and he wasn't stupid. Instead, he saluted the guard and dropped back on what passed for a bench in this hell hole. The man rubbed his face. What good was it going to do? He might have been in _worse_ situations before, but that meant nothing. Here, he was going to have to cut back on the attitude. And that was one thing that wasn't easy for him. Jango fleetingly wondered if it would be possible to sue the Separatist Movement for having the bright idea to start this while "clone army" poodoo anyways. If you had the right lawyers, you could get just about anything in your favor. Jango made a mental note to comm Ambrose right after he got out of this joint.

Someone started screaming and pleading. Jango jumped up, cursing under his breath. The voices sounded like children and gave him painful flashbacks to his time as a Hutt slave. He had seen Twi'lek boys as young as eight be defiled by the cruel slugs. The man cursed under his breath. He had no weapons and no way to fight these _chakkars_ off. The two voices sounded exactly alike, but they were young. **Too** young. Jango swore softly and started looking for a way out of here. How old were those children? Ten? Twelve? They weren't as grown up as the adults, but they still sounded like they didn't need to be anywhere **near** a battlefield. He gripped the bars with white knuckles, trying to understand what was going on.

_Did they keep Boba down here before I saved him?_

The cold air bit his nose and made his eyes water. Jango gritted his teeth. He needed something to do. So he started pacing. He could hear two sets of broken sobs now and wondered if these were two _vod'ikas_ who had lost their _vod_. Jango shook his head. He'd been there for less than a day and already he was thinking like a thrice blasted clone! He sniffed, trying to get the mildew stench out of his nose. The very air seemed heavy and cold, almost oppressive. He shivered a little bit. If they had kept his _son_ down here...of this was going to be the mother of all lawsuits and Jango was going to have fun serving them papers. Because he was evil like that. And you didn't touch a Mandalorian's family. **Ever**.

A guard threw two younger boys into a cell. One of them, the one with bright blonde hair, was sporting a black eye and a bloody nose. His brother grabbed at him and wrapped shaking arms around him. Jango bit his bottom lip. These were just kids! Not even the assholes on ancient Danu whipped **_ad'ikas_**! This was going too far! The boys looked skinny, much like Boba had, and they grabbed for each other.

The guard snorted. "That's right, you two! Go speak the savage language and play act as something you're not. Soldiers don't have time to play. You two were made to fight! Not sit around and try to shirk your duties!"

The blonde boy's eyes sparked. "You're mean!" he snapped. "The other trainers let their cadets play all the time! Why do you have to be mean to us?!" The dark haired boy pulled at his sleeve. "Not now, Cody." He turned back to the trainer, his arms crossed. Jango suppressed the chuckle. Well then. It looked like Kamino had a problem on it's hands. "I'll shoot you!" The boy set his jaw just like Jango did when he was angry. "I'll shoot you! You won't even see my comin' cause I'll be the 'perfect soldier' you want me to be!"

The guard gave the boy a long look and thumbed the scar over his nose. "I see."

"Please stop," Cody pleaded. The dark haired boy looked like he was going to start to weep. "It's n-not worth it!"

"Listen to CC-2224," the guard advised. "And CT-7567, please understand that you are expendable and no one will bat an eye if another drowned cadet washes up around the pylons. If, even, the sea monsters don't destroy you first." And then he walked away, leaving the two boys shivering. Cody looked like he was going to cry. But 7567, the blonde boy, had his jaw set and looked like he was ready to kill that _chakkar_. To be honest, Jango didn't blame him and he would even try to help as much as he was able.

The older man crouched down. "Hey, guys. I'm Jango. Who are you?"

The blonde scowled at him. "You're the guy who just cared about the defect!" His little face screwed into something nasty. "Bantha _shebs_!" But his face softened after a minute and he shrugged. "I call myself Rex cause I like the way it sounds. And my _vod_ is Cody."

Jango rubbed his head. "Rex. Cody. I'm sorry, but I'm not going to get my head chopped off by a lightsaber. I might be _dini'la_ , but I'm not a _di'kut_."

"You're my _dad_?!" a voice hissed. Jango slapped himself on the head. He glanced over and got a good look at Slick.

"Well..." Jango trailed off and wasn't sure how to word this one. Slick looked like he had no idea what was going on. "The short answer is yes. Hi, son. My name is Jango Fett and I'm your daddy."


	7. Who's Your Daddy?

If looks could kill, Jamgo Fett was pretty sure that he would have been gutted by the three sets of daggers glared his way. Slick looked at him like he had just gutted a puppy and expected his three clones to eat the meat from it. Well...Jango had eaten dog before. If you were a hungry bounty hunter, you would eat just about anything. And here he was, looking at those clones and hoping that they couldn't kill him through the bars of the cell. Jango shuddered a little bit and stepped back. The boys looked like they wanted to start crying. Slick gave him a nasty, disgusted look. Jango understood. He had pretty much left them all to die, just because it was too much of a headache to argue with the Jedi.

Though, in his favor, the Jedi council moved like an old dewback on a cold day. Jango preferred to do things _outside_ the legal system just for this reason. It was so much easier for him to get done what needed to be done if he didn't have to worry about some pen pusher trying to tell him what to do. Or bean counters. Bean counters were the karking _worst_.

Slick rubbed his mouth as he sat down on what passed for a bed here. **If** they ever got out, Jango was going to take Slick to a place where he could meet a hot Twi'lek and have a juicy bantha steak. In that order. Because everyone knew that men would be men and sometimes you needed to do what you needed to do. And, no, Jango was not going to say that he was sorry for that. He was a man and he did things that men did. The clone sighed and looked down. Hot hazel eyes glared at him a few times. They were full of anger and pain, not that Jango blamed him. He had pretty much picked a defect out of all the cadets he could have. He could have Slick. But that would have meant Boba would have died. So what was he supposed to do?

"You're a kriffing idiot." Slick glared at Jango. "You could have been _free_! You could have had everything you wanted!" He started shaking, his eyes dark. "You can go walking down a street and pay for a beer! And what can I do?! I sure as hell can't do that! I don't have money! I don't have _anything_! Those cadets over there?! Yeah, Aayla Secura and Shaak Ti are trying to help them out! But does that **mean** anything to the Jedi? Oh hell no!" Slick snarled at him a little bit before turning around. "I hate you. You're a shitty excuse for a father and I wish you cared."

"I'm sorry," Jango whispered. He turned away. The two little boys, Rex and Cody, were looking at him with frightened eyes. Jango offered them a little bit of a smile as he brought them as close to him as he could. Rex quickly stuck his hands through the bars. Jango took it and smiled. "Hey, little guy." How could he be expected to take care of all these cadets like they were his sons?! Slick wanted to have an answer to that! But Slick was ignoring him and still looking at the wall. Rex offered him the smallest of smiles. Jango made a silly face at them. Both boys suddenly laughed and then looked surprised at the sound they had made. "It's okay, you two. That's just called laughing."

Rex nodded a little bit and laughed again. His face broke into a really big smile. "I like that sound! It makes me really happy!"

Jango nodded a little bit. "That's really good. That means you're a person." He just wished he could hit the asshole who decided that these clones weren't people. As far as he cared, yeah, clones were people. They might have came from growth tubes, but they were still people! It was a _given_! You couldn't look at these men and call them anything else. Then again, it was legal to breed Zabraks so what surprised him? Jango settled back and looked at the two boys. He really didn't want to deal with an asshole like Slick.

Cody curled around himself. "I'm scared," he softly said. He looked up at Jango. The older man could see that he was fighting off tears. "I don't wanna be thrown away! Our trainers said if we were bad, the meat barges would come and take us away!"

"I won't let them take you," Jango heard himself promise. The one issue? He had no real way to keep that promise.


	8. Hard Choices

Jango sighed and looked at the two clones. So this was what they called "solitary" confinement. But he was getting the idea, from looking at the other three, that it wasn't to keep him alone and start to go stir crazy. No, the idea was that he could look at his _vode_ but not touch. Jango groaned softly and paced through the thin, narrow cell. He just wanted to get out of here and get soused. If he got soused, he could forget all of this. He hadn't seen any clones die, but there had been some screaming. It was like the cloners were beating clones on a pretty regular basis. Jango sunk down against the walls. He was gonna call "Papa" Ambrose Sharkey and get these kriffing Jedi piled under Mount McLegalFees. He groaned and flopped back on the hard mattress. It was awesome to know a really good lawyer, wasn't it?

There were those that said lawyers deserved a pair of concrete overshoes and a deep, dark harbor for them to...enjoy. Jango said that the Jedi needed the concrete and the harbor. Why waste the good stuff on a lawyer when you could take out the Jedi? There might have been a reason why Jango had signed up with Dooku's little crazy plan to destroy the Jedi Order. It wasn't because he wanted to be the father of several _billion_ clones, either. Nor was it because he needed the pitiful amount of credits he got to keep from this mess. No, it was because he actually hated the Jedi. Obi-Kriffing-Wan Kenobi could try the patience of the Saint Murphy and his bratty padawan wasn't much better.

It took him maybe about ten minutes before he saw a woman walk through the mess that was the prison cells. She had a rather disgusted look on her face as she took in the rust stains, the dripping water, the scared little boys, Slick's usual scowl, and Jango starting to cough because, you know, he could actually be theatrical. He would kill whoever leaked this to the press, but Jango had taken acting classes when he was in High School. That was the only reason why he had bothered  to finish, so he could try to get into a good school on Coruscant. Sadly, they refused to take Mandalorians and Jango was forced to go work for the guard. That lasted about three months until he was trying to find someone to teach him bounty hunting.

The woman stopped in front of Slick's cage. The clone jerked up, his hazel eyes confused. He whined softly and tried to get away from all that was going on. It was really quite scary. Slick must have never seen a woman before, because he jumped. It looked quite unnerving to him, too. Jango cleared his throat and gave her a cocky smile. The woman raised her eyebrow and walked over to his cell. Jango offered her a sly, come-hither smile. He had actually gotten very good at that during his time as a Hutt slave. The woman cleared her throat. She probably did not like him very much. That was okay, because Jango just needed to use her to get out of this mess. He would grab Boba and he would run. He would also grab Rex and Cody. Slick? He was pretty much on his own because he was an adult. He could figure out a way to get out of this big, huge mess.

"And you are?" Jango purred. He brushed his long, dark hair out of his face. Damn, but he did need a hair cut! If this woman slapped him across the face, he would blame it on the fact that his hair was long and ratty looking. As far as Jango cared, he looked like a real clone. He didn't look like an actual person. He looked like a clone, which sucked. There were quite a few clones with very long hair and Jango rather hated to look like them. "You know, I don't think my brother over there has ever seen a woman that wasn't on the ration bar box." He was going out on a limb there. Jango knew that there were Twi'lek women on the boxes for certain ration bars. He was going out on a limb that Kamino bought that same brand.

Slick glared at him, his arms crossed. He was sitting on his own bed, growling softly. The big clone probably needed to get out of here. He needed a girl friend, maybe a Twi'lek or a Pantoran, and he needed a nice, juicy bantha steak. He needed that and he needed it before he turned into an anal retentive Jedi Knight. "Thanks, **_vod_** ," he snarled. "I'll make sure to tell her that you drool in your sleep!" Cody started giggling and Rex fell over laughing. Slick groaned softly. "That wasn't supposed to be funny! It was supposed to be insulting!"

"There there." Jango offered Slick a little bit of a smile before he turned back to the woman. He thought he recognized her. That wasn't very uncommon, though. Jango Fett was a busy man. He had a girlfriend in half a dozen ports and he could always pick up a Twi'lek if he really needed one. He could always pay her. And he did pay well. Jango had money. "So. My name is Lucky. My _vode_ are Rex, Cody, and Slick. Rex and Cody are the cute ones. Slick is the big nasty one with the attitude problem." He resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he filed his way through the names he knew. It looked like he was getting an eyeful of Padme Nabarrie Amidala. This actually made him being a "clone" a good thing. She wouldn't know him. "C'mon, sweetheart! I don't bite. Much."

"You are a boor," she muttered under her breath. The woman brushed her braided dark hair over her shoulders as she looked at them. Slick gave her a very shy smile. Amidala returned it. "I think I like Slick better than Lucky." Slick stuck out his tongue. Jango shot him the bird. Amidala groaned and rubbed her face. "I'm trying to help you two! I'm part of a group that wants to help the clones, okay?! But I need you two to stop acting like a pair of idiots!"

Slick blinked. "I'm only fifteen, if you count the years I spent in a growth tube."

"I think you're making her mad," Jango softly said. He turned around and started rubbing his face. Would she try to help him? Did the woman even have an idea that he was the guy that was supposed to kill her? That would be really, really bad for the clones. He was the template for the clones. Would they be blamed for what he had done? Yes, Jango knew that bounty hunting was not the best path for an aspiring actor. But what else could he have done? Dance? Jango had been forced to dance before! He sure as hell wasn't doing it ever again! He couldn't dance. He couldn't even dance with the Twi'leks that danced to celebrate their freedom. He sighed and settled down. "Look, I just want you to get the two _ad'ikas_ out of here, okay?"

Amidala turned to look at him after she got some pictures of their cellblock. "Oh, I intend too."


	9. To What the Cost

Jango glared at the man who dared hold a stun stick to his back as he was marched through the halls of Kamino. The former bounty hunter, now "defective" clone, was about to get a lesson in just why he hated the GAR. He still enjoyed plotting his mother of all lawsuits, too. Being a bounty hunter meant that you had to had to know the local laws and regulations for the space you were about to enter. To whit, if you were about to go hunting on an asteroid hop, you needed to bribe off the local sheriff for the prescribed amount of credits (usually about five hundred to a thousand). If you were going to Coruscant, you needed to properly register your weapons _and_ have all the required forms in triplicate. Oh. You also had to pay the outrageously high taxes, too.

The man behind him just ignored him. His booted feet sounded just like Jango's on the metal floor, but the guy with the stun stick wasn't the one who was getting marched to certain doom, death, and destruction. Jango sighed softly as they walked. He had to mouth off to whoever it was that got him in all this mess. Just because he didn't like taking orders. And now it was going to cost him. Jango shook his head quickly. He had to get out of here! Here he was, a free man, and he was thinking like one of his brainwashed clones! The bounty hunter growled softly to himself. Shock Stick took offense to that and whacked him across the back. Thankfully, the blasted thing was inert. Otherwise, Jango would have been a screaming mess on the floor.

As it was, Jango dug his heels in the floor. Shock Stick snarled at him and called him a few choice words. Jango filed those away under the "verbal harassment" clause of his contract. Honestly, Jango didn't need the lawyer, but it felt good just to have one on hand. He turned his head around and gave the armored man a good look. He could tell that Shock Stick wasn't a clone. He didn't have the old gait that most clones did. They walked like the sea pirates on Danu did--their gait sort of rolled and slid. They were used to walking on pitching decks. Most of Kamino was made out of pitching decks, so Jango understood. He also wondered just how much rum he would need to drink until **he** could walk like that.

"Get moving, you damn clone!" the man snarled. He jabbed the business end of his blasted stick between Jango's ribs. "Either you start walking or I swear to Saint Murphy himself that I'll light you up so much that you glow for a _week_!" Jango could tell by looking in the reflection from his cuffs that the man meant it, too. The Mandalorian sighed softly and started walking. Oh, Coyote, why did he think this was a good idea? Why couldn't he have just flipped Dooku the bird and walked away? It seemed like the galaxy had it in for him! The man walked on sadly. He was almost too out of it to notice how the place was changing. They stopped at one of the many lifts. Jango looked around, almost automatically checking for anything he could use as a weapon. What he would do for his _beskade_ or his blaster right about now... He just hoped that both weapons hadn't been destroyed!

The lift stopped in front of a long line of apartments. Jango swallowed and cringed. The last time he'd been taken by a man... He had literally almost died, he had bled so much. But that had been because whoever hurt him, liked to make his slaves bleed. Jango tried to force the memories away, but he couldn't. He just walked along and started shaking like a leaf in a thunderstorm after the man stopped in front of a door. He started knocking quickly. Jango turned his face away. How could he look at Rex or Cody knowing he'd been defiled in this way? Could he tell Slick? Would his "son" even care? Could he even take care of Boba after this happened to him? The last time this had happened, Jango had turned to spice and drinking. How could he hurt the others by doing that?

A dark skinned man opened the door after Shock Stick knocked. He had no hair on his head, which made Jango think of some guy in a book Boba used to read. It was about this evil guy with no hair that tried to steal all the magic in some land. He lost, of course. Jango quickly shook his head and looked the guy who was about to hurt him square in the face. It couldn't hurt to remind him that he, Jango, was a person. He wasn't just some toy you could rent by the hour and torture as much as you liked! No, Jango was a human being. He understood that some might not see him as that, but he sure did! Surely that counted for something... Jango swallowed and tried not to look too scared.

"So this is the one you've had issues with," the man flatly said. He looked Jango over like one would look over a piece of nerf steak. Jango tried to draw back, but it was no use. The man grabbed him with the Force and looked him over. "You look pathetic at best. Why the cloners let you live is beyond me."

Jango growled and glared at the man. "Sorry. I'm not your mirror."

Shock Stick coughed and turned away. "You know what? I'm just going to let you two have at it. Master Windu, I hope you have fun." Then the man turned on his heels and left.

The Mandalorian took a breath as he faced down what had to be a Jedi. This wouldn't be so hard, right? He'd done something similar. He had faced Lord Dooku and won. He'd fought a lumbo lion and killed it for Jabba. Hell! He'd faced Kamino for the chance to have his son! Jango knew he would do anything for the chance to have his son back and this was all that kept him going. The clone swallowed. He looked up, straight into eyes that were a dark hazel, edged with gold. If Jango could have, he would have ran. If Jango could have, he would have told the nearest Jedi.

But he couldn't. Because Jango Fett was now just another clone.


	10. Battle Scars

Jango took a deep breath and looked at the other man. He wasn't going to take this lying down. He forced himself to study the Jedi's features, noting the smooth, almost flawless dark skin and the dark eyes. Jango knew what he looked like, with his tawny skin, a mop of unruly dark hair, and his hazel eyes. He looked like the classic Mandalorian. He looked like a man you wouldn't want to see in a dark alley. Jango rolled his shoulders back and did the best he could to make the other man think that exact same thing about him. Now, the effect was probably ruined by the fact that he was wearing that stupid body glove, but Jango knew how to look threatening when he actually wasn't. Being a slave to a Hutt taught you several things.

The man raised an eyebrow. He was a lot like a Zabrak, in the fact that he was almost totally hairless. He just had those weird eyebrows. Almost a unibrow, but not quite. Jango forced himself to look calm and serious, though. He eyed the Jedi with his cool eyes and made sure not to back down as he got inspected like a piece of cattle. Jango gritted his teeth. He had already gone through this with the Hutts. He hated doing this again. The man motioned with one gloved hand. Cheeks burning, Jango obeyed. He pulled the shirt off of his body and shivered, nipples peaking in the cold air. It was beyond strange what you noticed when you were scared. Jango took a steadying breath as the Jedi laid one gentle hand on the lumps on his ribs.

"What broke your ribs?" Windu asked after a few minutes. He looked at Jango, rather curious now. Jango huffed out a small breath through his nose. He had been young when it happened. If only the kriffing Jedi would _read his mind_ or do all that other space magic they were famous for doing! It would make Jango's life a kriff ton more easy! "It would have to be a blunt force object. A hammer, maybe? A piece of pipe? Were you fighting your brothers, clone? Had you been promised something if you complied and only got the tar beaten out of you?"

"Training, sir." Jango really did not want to dignify these stupid questions with a response. However, if he was going to play the stupid clone to save his son, he could do it. The bounty hunter made sure to keep his stance non threatening. The last thing he needed was to tick the Jedi off and making him think that he was about to get punched by his unruly clone. Jango gritted his teeth. He didn't belong to _anyone_ , not anymore. And he would sure as hell make sure he died that way. Jango had been a slave before. So had Cad Bane. The two had compared scars when they were younger and joked about the things they had gone through. "We were training with droids, sir, and I was a little too slow. It was trying to beat me to death before they got involved and turned it off."

Windu snorted and tapped the crop on his robes. "A likely story, that. Even before the Jedi took the cloning operation from the Kaminoans, you were not training with droids. So, tell me the truth. How were your ribs shattered and why didn't you report it to the infirmary?"

Jango gritted his teeth and decided to throw all caution to the four winds. "Because I'm not a clone, okay? My name is Jango Fett. I'm the bounty hunter you hired to make and train the Alpha class clones! Speaking of, I know you've done something with them! They're _kids_ , they deserve to be able to play a bit!" He looked into the calm eyes of one Mace Windu and realized that the Jedi didn't believe him. "I am! My name is Jango Fett! My family was killed by Death Watch, I was sold to a Hutt and forced to fight and take bounties, and then I got free because I killed the guy!" Jango started pacing as best he could, his eyes frantic. "You have to believe me! I'm not lying to you! Check my memories!"

"I think you just like to make up stories," the Jedi mused. He walked over quickly. "I don't have to read your mind. It's just like your thousands of other brothers. All the same, every one of them." Quicker than Jango could see, the Jedi grabbed a shock stick from his boot and jabbed it in Jango's ribs. Jango screamed in pain. He arched his back up and his wail was lost the in reconditioning room.


	11. Picking up the Pieces (of Your Heart)

Jango sat down on the bunk. His body ached all over and he just wanted to go to sleep. He had been _abused_. The Jedi had used a shock stick on him, burning every time he said that he wasn't a clone trooper. Windu wanted to know how his ribs had been brokem. Jango had told him the truth--that he had been injured when he was training with his adopted father. Jango put his head in his hands and almost cried. What else could he do? If he made up a story, he was lying and Windu shocked him. But he if told what actually happened, the Jedi didn't believe him. It really did hurt, knowing that the man who almost killed him was the one in charge of "reconditioning" him. His belly rumbled as he rested against the wall, but he was too numb to care.

He didn't have Boba. Even the thought of suing the pants off of the Jedi Oreder was starting to lose the appeal. Jango gritted his teeth and forced himself to get up. He didn't look at the bowl of gruel in the tray. It was a common nutrition gel, made to keep soldiers strong and fit with the minimum effort. All you did was open the giant vat and spoon it out. The older man's belly turned at the thought of eating that crap. He had never wanted to eat it in the first place, but what choice would he have? It wasn't like the Jedi would care if he starved himself and went hungry. The man sighed a little bit. He paced in the small cell, but that just made him even hungrier. A droid came by and took the tray of food that he didn't want to eat.

They also took his water, but Jango wasn't too proud to drink out of the sink. He shivered a little bit at the cold. Jango was honestly filthy, but he didn't want to take a bath unless he had too. That would not be fun. And he just didn't want to get hosed down with a freaking pressure washer. Whoever thought that was a good idea needed to get punched in the face. Jango ran a hand through his gritty, nasty hair. The man closed his eyes. He was so tired that it went below the bone. He didn't know what he was going to do. What if he died here? What if the Jedi decided that he was simply too much work and they just killed him? Slick had said that the Jedi were close enough to killing him...

A guard dragged a man over. He was leaning heavily in the guard's arms, his blood smearing on the man's grey armor. His hair hung greasy and lank, far past his jaw bone. He looked like he was a dead man walking, his face covered with bruises and blood. The man looked down. His hazel eyes were dull and his fingers curled like they were broken. It took Jango a minute before he realized that the man he was looking at was _Slick_. The once proud clone was coughing and hacking, blood bubbling up from his lips. The guard threw him in the cell. He kicked the man in the ribs. Slick gasped for breath. He struggled to get himself up, his head sagging down. The poor clone struggled and Jango thought he might even have broken ribs.

"Slick?" Jango crouched down. He needed to get the other man to safety! He reached through the bars and gripped a shoulder that was far skinnier than he thought it was. The bounty hunter swore under his breath. This man needed help! Just like the two defective cadets needed help. "Slick! _Ad'ika_ , you have to look at me!"

Slick looked at him and gave a mirthless laugh as he collapsed on the bars beside Jango's cell. He rested his head on the bars, giving Jango a look until the other man saw that he needed to rub his head. It was very strange, but Jango still did it. His hand crawled as he messed with the greasy, gritty hair. Had Slick never taken a bath? Blood clotted the matted, dark hair. He'd even grown a little bit of beard, but it was patchy. It was almost like the hair would fall out if he wasn't careful with it. Jango swallowed a little bit. What could he do? This man had been brutalized. Had he been hurt just to make Jango come to heel? After all that had happened, Jango wouldn't put it past the Jedi. After all, they had destroyed cadets for the crime of having two fingers too many.

"So now you claim me." Slick arched his head back and smiled as Jango messed with his hair. The bounty hunter shuddered to think of the filth he was messing around with, but Slick deserved the pleasure. "So now you claim me as your son. When I've been beaten half to death by my own brothers." He took a deep, shuddering breath and Jango cringed to see him in pain. It looked like the other man had just been hurt for the sake of being hurt. The man turned his head a little bit. "I might have made a brother mad. He's already lost one brother and I just made it worse. It's my fault, you see, that Brakker and Hailstorm were killed. That or sold."

Jango wanted to sick all over the cell. "They sell clones?!"

Slick nodded. His eyes were fluttering closed and he looked like he just wanted to fall asleep. "Shaak Ti brought me food from her home world, you know. Something called Lemongrass _Saate_. Really, really good. I loved it. It was the first thing that I've ever eaten that wasn't out of a can." Slick's belly rumbled. "Have they already fed us?"

"Yeah." Jango felt sick. He had tossed his own food away and Slick would go hungry. But he settled down and touched his son through the bars of the cell. "What did it taste like?" He just needed to keep the other man talking to him. Food was always something people liked to talk about. Clones had to be the same way. After all, clones were people too. They had to be. Jango knew he was human and if the clones were perfect copies of him, then they were humans as well. He needed to get Slick out before something bad happened to him. Rex and Cody had to get out, too. But where could they go? Where could they go? It wasn't like they could just go to some city and blend into the crowd...

Slick nodded and just started talking. Jango tried to keep him talking and keep his injured son going through the entire night.


	12. An Attempt

Slick was too cold and tired to keep talking for very long. Jango saw that. He didn't like it, but he had to deal with it. He let the other man go to sleep after a few hours. It was the kindest thing he could do. Slick was in no small amount of pain from what they had done to him. And to allow the other clones to literally beat the stuffing out of him? Where were the trainers? Where was Fenn Shysa and all the others? Kad Skirata had saved the Nulls from being destroyed! Why hadn't he stepped in to help the other clones out? In the back of his mind, Jango knew the answer. The Nulls were enough to deal with on their own. The last thing Kad needed to do was add to it by getting new clones involved. Nulls got jealous. Quickly.

If only Jango wasn't _dar'Mando'a_ or _aruetii_. If he hadn't gotten himself kicked out of the Honor Guard, they might have been willing to help him. But as it was, Jango was lucky that they hadn't killed him yet. The other trainers had to know he was here. Did they see this as punishment for what he did? Did they even care? Or was Jango a clone in all but name?

He settled beside Slick and sighed. This was the last thing he needed to do. He had to get out of here, had to save Rex and Cody. Slick was a big boy. He might have had the stuffing beaten out of him, his entire body might have been black and blue, but he was still an adult. He wasn't an _ad'ika_. He was a fully grown man. He had the ability to get himself out of this mess if he had too. Jango didn't know how, though. It seemed like all of the clones were trapped in this mess. He would have to think of something before it all went to hell around him. The older man sighed again. What could he do? He was imprisoned in a cage on a planet that didn't like him. The last thing he needed was to make the Kaminoans any more mad than they already were.

Jango just happened to look up when he saw the same woman. She was short, with dark hair and those hard blue eyes. She looked like she could take on a saw toothed gank without even breaking a sweat. Now, if she had a rocket launcher, she could probably work her way up to a narglatch or something bigger. Jango didn't have the energy to snap at her, though. Or even make his sexy comments. He was too tired and too ready to just fold over and die. His body ached and Slick had been beaten. He wanted to get all three kids and leave. Just leave. That would make it so much better on him... He looked up, though, and met her eyes. She nodded to him and pulled what looked like a rainbow key from a corner of her cloak.

"Can he walk?" The woman had an inner core accent. Corellia, maybe. Or Naboo. Alderaan, even. Jango nodded stiffly and nudged Slick with his boot. The other man nodded as he struggled to his feet. He was having a hard day of it. First he had been beaten by his brothers and now he was being dragged out of his cell by a _dini'la dala_. That would be enough to put anyone in a really foul mood. Slick, though, stumbled to his feet. He was clearly trying. The woman passed him the rainbow key after she opened Slick's cell door. Jango used one of these before. He actually had one, but he rarely used it. Computerized locks could be hacked easily by a bored five year old. It took much more skill to actually pick a lock.

"There are three kids I gotta get out of here." Jango had no idea where Boba was. He knew that Rex and Cody were one cell block down. Hopefully, his son had had the good sense to actually obey for once and not go off and do his own thing. Jango rubbed his head a little bit and looked at the woman. "You get him to your ship. Just say that you bought him. Me? I'll bring up the rear with three kids. Don't worry, I don't have an anooba."

The woman nodded. "Sounds good." She moved so Slick was supported by her body. The clone groaned, his lashes fluttering. Jango could tell that he didn't have all that much longer before he just gave out. Not that the clone would die, just that he would  pass out and not get up for a few days. Jango turned on his heels. The first thing he did was get Rex and Cody out. The two little boys had pressed themselves deep into the corner. They looked cold, the poor things, but neither cadet had a blanket. Jango unlocked the cell and slipped inside. Rex jumped up first, fear in his eyes, but he relaxed whenever he saw Jango. Cody got up a minute after and pressed his trembling self into Jango.

He held the boy for a moment. "It's not gonna take long," he softly said. "But you two have another little brother we gotta get. His name is Lucky."

Rex nodded. "I know a Lucky! One of the trainers was saying that he acted more like a Null ARC than a functioning cadet."

Jango swore under his breath. That, sadly, sounded like his son. He nodded, though, and took Rex's hand. "Then we need to find where he is." The older man paused. He had no idea how well these two were going to act when they were in the Real World, but this wasn't the time for that. "I need you two boys to help me. Can you do that?"

Cody nodded and pulled on Jango's hand. Jango followed him. He knew what was going on and he just walked through the rest of Kamino. Jango was wearing the bright red duds of a captive clone. One that was imprisoned for someone. He had thought that they might have looked at him, but they weren't and he wasn't going to jinx that. He tried to act normal as he walked. All of the walls were bright white, though, and the air smelled like clear. Jango gritted his teeth. He didn't like it here. It was too clean, too artificial. But he didn't say anything as he walked. Boba's life hung in the balance. Rex looked around at the others and pressed into Jango. It was clear that he was scared. Jango didn't blame him.

As Jango expected, Boba had been crammed into one of the tubes. His entire skin crawled to look at them (and the easy way that Rex climbed up the ladders), but there was nothing he could do. It looked like Rex knew how to use a rainbow key, though, because he opened up the tube and got a very stunned Boba down the ladder. Boba raced towards his father and grabbed him, his knuckles white. Jango simply picked him up. They had to hurry now. If the Kaminoans didn't start getting suspicious, Jango would start to think that something was very, very wrong with this picture.


	13. Escaping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or, well, what happens when you have three kids and six flights of stairs

How did you get three kids and one bone tired man out of one of the most secure military facility in the galaxy? Yeah. Jango didn't know either. You probably got out the same way that the woman (wasn't her name Padme? Had they ever crossed swords before? Jango hoped not. She now had the life of his son in her hands) got in. The thing was, Jango didn't know how she did it. He'd figured that Padme used whatever money she had (wasn't she a Senator or something?) to talk her way into Kamino. Jango had no idea why, he was just glad that she had **done** it. Alright. They had to get out of here. Jango had no idea how he was going to do that, but he was going to _try_. He had to get out of here. He had to, if only to save his son and the two other kids he picked up.

Mandalorians had a strong tradition of adoption, okay? Jango might have gotten kicked out of the Guard and kinda sorta exiled from all the Clans. You know, no biggie. It wasn't like that Mandalorians were all raised as one massive family and it was a Bad Thing whenever you got kicked out. And it wasn't like that had been the time in his life when he'd been vulnerable to getting captured. And dragged to the Hutts and used as a slave. 

Jango gritted his teeth and started walking. They needed to get out of here. He steered the kids in front of him, trying to keep them in the clear. He was more than willing to get killed if it meant that his son got to freedom. And yeah, maybe he was figuring that he would adopt Rex and Cody. The kids were cute. What could he say beyond that? So maybe Jango had a thing for cute things. You know, kids. Porgs. Puppies. Narglatch cubs. Things like that. All sorts of little cute things that could drag you in and kill you. He started walking and cursed the way his all-blacks were starting to warm up against his crotch. What _were_ those things?! Neoprene or something like that?! Neoprene was what you made _swimsuits_ out of (not that Jango would admit that he knew that). Not something you made smallclothes out of!

Rex grabbed his hand. He looked terrified, like this wasn't something he wanted to do. Jango didn't blame him. He still held the boy's hand, though, and he walked as fast as he could. He didn't know what he was supposed to do. Jango knew from one half remembered tour that the ships were on one of the lower levels. That was just great. He thought it was on the first level, because that was the one with the biggest spaces. He sighed a little and started walking. He was very tired and his entire body ached, but he couldn't stop now. He gritted his teeth and forged on ahead. This wasn't the best place to get lost in. The Kaminoans were not very nice aliens and all the clones knew it.

They couldn't take the hover-lift. Why? There were too many cameras and they could halt the thing between levels. Jango might be able to get away with saying that the woman had wanted him to pleasure her. Slick had said that was pretty common. He didn't like it, but he had to deal with it. Jango ruffled a hand through his hair. He was filthy and he needed a bath. A bubble bath would be so awesome right now that he didn't know what he'd do if he got one. Jango rolled his eyes as they started going down the stairs. Cody started coughing and hacking. He looked very pale, very wan. Like the little boy had never been allowed to be outside before. Jango cursed that under his breath. The second they got dirt side, he was going to take that little boy out where he could play.

Cody looked up at him with very tired eyes. "Mister? Could you pick me up?" He doubled over and started hacking. The kid had to be sick, if he was kept in the cold and wet all the time. "My lungs hurt."

Jango nodded and picked the kid up. They didn't have much more to go, but it was better to carry the kid than him to be hurt. Jango tried to be soothing, but he was a bounty hunter. Boba could tell you that he wasn't the best father in the world. After all, what sort of _buir_ took their kid to an active war zone? Jango tried to ignore that he didn't really have a choice and instead berated himself. He was an idiot! He almost deserved what had happened to him! The man sighed. He looked down at Boba and Rex. Boba was struggling, his little body only barely able to keep up. Rex looked a little better. Then again, Rex had been trained to be a soldier. He'd been _bred_ that way.

"It's not that much longer now," Jango assured him. "Just one more flight of stairs, okay? We can do this. You little guys are so big and strong and brave. You on't know how proud of you I am." Instead of talking, though, Rex just sagged down. He'd climbed down three flights of stairs now. He looked bad. Even Boba was wilting fast. Jango cursed under his breath and looked around. He didn't have a blaster. He was completely unarmed. This was not going to go well, he could feel it. He was unarmed, in a stairwell with a thousand and one blind spots, and he had three kids. One of who couldn't even walk because his lungs were so congested. "Look. We gotta get out of here, okay? I promise we can do this. You just gotta go a little farther."

Rex shook his head. "Nuh-uh. I'm not going any farther."

Boba looked at Rex and crossed his arms. "My legs hurt," he complained. "Da, why don't you pick my up like you picked Cody up?"

"Because Cody is coughing and I don't want him to get even more sick. Now either you come with me or Blackblood Bart is going to eat you." A part of Jango hated using a child's fairy tale to scare the kids, but he had too. He just started getting them down the stairs again. This wasn't going to go well, he had a temper on him, and Padme had no real reason to get him out of there. Not unless she wanted to sue the pants off of the GAR.

Jango shook his head as he got the kids down the last flight of stairs and into a docking bay. He could see the Senator and started going over. Even as light as he was, Cody was starting to make his back hurt. Jango sighed as he took the kids right into a very luxurious looking ship. This...was going to be so much fun...


	14. Recovery Time

Jango was beyond tired. He was cold, Slick was coughing in the chair beside him and looked like he was about to die, and Rex was coughing. It wasn't good. Jango was the sort of tired that went beyond skin deep and into the bone. Into the soul if you believed all of the old Mandalorian sayings. Jango personally didn't. He thought that most of them were a load of bunk. Family is more than blood? It was a nice saying, but plenty of Native Mandalorians sold each other. It was actually a pretty common thing, sadly. But some of the Clans were so impoverished that that was the only way they could make the tax money--by sending out slaving missions. It wasn't like the Republic cared all that much, anyways.

He dropped back on the chair and ran a hand through his hair. It was all nasty and greasy, making him shudder a little bit. Jango was stuck on the ship with a very battered son of his and three other children. What the hell was he supposed to do? Boba was easy enough. His son loved to crawl in his lap and try out his reading skills on him. Or he would watch some holo about talking space ships. He supposed Rex and Cody could do that, if they could even read. But Slick? What would he like? He knew the clone had never been exposed to anything outside of military life. He was probably scared or nervous, even. Jango needed to ask him so he could get a good read on the situation. He had learned _that_ from the half mad Cathar Irene Terra.

Getting clawed in the face because you annoyed the resident angry Cathar tended to change things about you. As did being a slave for several years.

Amidala came back into the room, holding a tray of hot soup. Jango watched her with wary eyes. He was very tired and the last thing he needed was to anger her. She could send him back to Kamino, where he would be killed for desertion. She sat one of the bowls beside him, though, and gestured to it. "If you're hungry, you can eat this. It's just chicken soup, nothing fancy that will turn your stomach."

Jango nodded. He sipped it right out of the bowl, enjoying the taste of it. It tasted like something his _ba'buir'ika_ had made before she died. His eyes fluttered shut and he was unable  to stifle the hum of pleasure that escaped him. He couldn't cook like his grandmother could, so he rarely tried to make something like this. It was a little sweeter than what he really liked, but he was willing to eat it. Jango felt his mood improve as he ate. Slick slurped his soup down with a great gusto, really enjoying the way it tasted. Boba, of course, was a little wary of the soup. He still ate it, though. Rex and Cody had theirs gulped down in minutes and were done in seconds before Jango had savored half of his. The kids were probably hungry, though.

"Thank you," Jango murmured. He wiped his mouth off on his sleeve and sighed. It was time to face the music. "I'm Jango Fett. The template, not a clone. And...well, I'm sorry for what I tried to do on Genosis. Dooku literally said he would kill Boba if I didn't try to grab you. You can thank your gods that other things happened..."

"It's okay." Amidala put a hand on his shoulder. He nodded, mouth a little dry. She seemed to understand and cupped the underside of his chin with one free hand. Jango leaned into the touch, his thick lashes fluttering closed. It just felt good to be touched again with kindness in it instead of pain. He liked being touched, too. Maybe there was something to the old story that anyone could grow touch starved. "Trust me, Jango, I have a pretty good idea of the type of _sleemos_ we're dealing with here." She shook her head. "I have an open refresher if you would like to take a bath." She pointed down the hall and Jango got a pretty good idea that she wanted him to take a shower. The problem was that he was very warm where he was sitting and he didn't really want to get up.

He sighed and obeyed her after a minute. They had needed to get out of there, yes, but at the sane time he wasn't sure if going with her had been the best idea he ever had. After all, she was an unknown and he had once tried to capture her. Jango shook his head as he started to go get a much needed bath. The last thing he needed to do was tick her off. Still, though, he was getting a bad feeling about this.


	15. The Chance to Begin Anew

The funny thing was, no one knew who he was without the armor. Jango had come to that conclusion long ago. They usually saw him as some sort of rogue assassin droid. Jango had met enough rogue droids in his twenty five years of living to know just how powerful those things could be. There was a _reason_ why the Captain Moonlight adventure show also had a lecture on how to disable a rogue droid at the end. Now, Captain Moonlight might have been a crazy old Pantoran, but he was crazy enough to crawl inside a reactor and shut it off right before it exploded. Or he would blast apart a rogue droid that was terrorizing a village. Jango was going to show his age, here--he had wanted to be Captain Moonlight when he was growing up.

He came out of the refresher and flopped on the couch. Boba had found a HoloPad and was teaching Rex how to play Flappy Birds on it. Jango groaned softly. The last thing he needed was another vid-game addict. Then again, it was much easier to bribe the kids with vid-game time to get them to do their chores. Jango smiled a little and decided that he liked that plan. It would serve to help him out as he tried to deal with the three kids he now had. Jango groaned softly. He wasn't meant to be a father, but he had three kids. Four, if you counted Slick. Why couldn't he have gotten some Twi'lek pregnant? Oh, he knew why. Because he was a _di'kut_ and slave to the almighty credit.

Amidala read something on her chair. She wasn't all done up in the fancy robes like she had been the last time, nor was she wearing a skin tight tube top and white pants ( _why_ would you wear clothes like that in a desert?). Her very long hair was still bound, though. Then again, Jango didn't care. The women on Tamil were draped in bed sheets, it looked like. Amidala looked up at him. Jango turned his head. The first time they had met, he had put a blaster to her head and kidnapped her. The man groaned softly. She now held his life in her hands. How smart was that? Jango really needed to start picking his targets more carefully. That, or he could get out of the bounty hunting thing all together and become a farmer. Wasn't "Fett" supposed to come from "Vhett", which meant farmer?

Or something like that. The Kryze sisters had called him "farmer boy" just to irritate him. Unlike those two, he had gotten into the Mandalorian Academy on sheer brains and guts alone. They at least had noble blood to back them up. Jango was just some backwaters nobody with good aim and a talent for getting into trouble. The man grimaced softly. He _really_ needed to play this smarter. Jango rubbed his face some and swallowed. She really was pretty. Maybe, if he hadn't captured her, she might have considered him. But since he had captured her on the orders of Count Dooku... he would be lucky not to go back to Kamino. Then again, she didn't know him from Coyote. If he could actually keep his mouth shut for once...

But who was he kidding? There was a reason he didn't drink and his not being able to hold it was it.

"Do I know you?" Amidala got up. She moved gracefully, like a spotted lion. Jango felt his mouth go dry. _Coyote_ , but he wanted her. He needed to be with someone, needed to be reminded that he was still there and still a man. "Your voice... it's very familiar. You walk like someone I know, too."

"Dooku hired me to take you to Genosis." He braced himself, dark eyes hard. "I... I don't know why I did it, okay? But I have bills to pay and it was just a job. You have _no idea_ the peanuts I got paid by the Republic. I do some freelancing as a bounty hunter. It helps pay the bills and keep my ship from not imploding every time I pass through a mag field. Very messy, that." He didn't know why he was babbling on. Usually, he could keep it straight and to the point. Was it because she was a woman and he wanted pleasant company that badly? The last thing he needed was to get involved with a woman that he had tried to shoot. It just wouldn't end well.

She gave him a long look. "I thought you were taller."

"It's the armor." He preened himself some and grinned. "People always say that." They usually did and he liked that. He liked being someone who was feared. It showed the rest of them that he wasn't just a kriff up who got good men killed. And could you honestly blame him? The explosion had been an accident. But the press had needed a scapegoat and he was the man for the job, it seemed.

"You're not as impressive in person." She sat on the arm of his couch and raised an eyebrow. He groaned softly. Amidala seemed to sense that and laughed softly. "You looked like something out of a Nabu myth with the armor on. Now... you're just you. You're just a man."

Jango nodded. "That's all I am, you know. I'm just a man." That was all he was and that was all he would ever be. Just a man and not the legend they made him out to be.


	16. Just a Man

Jango was almost afraid to go to sleep after he told Padme who he really was. He'd pissed some guys off, okay? He'd made more than his share of waves and enemies. There was a reason he'd been the scapegoat when that barge exploded. No one really liked him. He'd been too gung-ho, too outspoken for the rest of them. He grimaced some and rolled over. He closed his eyes some. He needed to sleep, too. But he couldn't sleep. That was thanks to the fact that he had three sweaty little boys pressed into him. Rex, Cody, and Boba. His sons. Jango huffed a little bit as he tried to get comfortable. Why couldn't they go bother Slick like this?! Slick was a clone! Clones loved snuggling each other like puppies.

Jango wasn't a clone. He might have _looked_ like a clone, but he wasn't a clone. He groaned some as he picked himself up. Boba whined and pressed into him. He just went deeper into Jango's side. The older man sighed some and rolled over. What was he supposed to do? He'd had no parenting classes. All he knew what to do was just try to be there for his sons. Bedtimes, good food, baths, school. Things like that. It had been hard enough with just Boba. What was he going to do with Rex and Cody? Those two had some pretty severe issues. They _had_ to be! Clones coming off of Kamino were rarely ever perfectly sane, no matter what Kamino said. Jango moved up and rubbed his face. He needed to find someone he could trust (and unfortunately, they were all on Kamino, dealing with the Nulls). Like, say, a ride. Jango groaned some.

Someone slipped into the room and pressed into his side. Jango looked over. It took him a minute before he realized that he was looking into a copy of his own face, though that handsome mug was contorted into terror. Jango sighed and budged up as best he could. There was a little bit of a whine as Slick pressed his battered body into Jango's side. Jango pulled his oldest close to him. Was Slick his oldest? He was certainly was the biggest. Rex was the smallest and his little bones pressed into Jango's side. He grimaced some. Slick was pretty thin, too. Were they not feeding his clones?! It wasn't like they didn't have money! They could use the tax credits to feed the karking clone army! Not have some slush fund that paid off the people who knew a little bit too much.

And if that wasn't working, Jango was called in to make some "disappear". He'd put several important politicos in the North Sea factory, okay?

"Thanks, _buir_ ," Slick mumbled. He raised his head some and sighed. Jango still held him. Slick curled up around him like a big cat. "I... was having some nightmares. I thought I was back in those cells..."

"I have bad dreams, too," Jango softly said. He picked the other man's chin up and rubbed his cheek. Slick leaned into the gesture. Jango leaned back and rubbed at his head. What was he supposed to do? Was he supposed to tell Slick what had happened to him...? Something told him that he should. "When I was pretty young, I wound up in a spot of trouble with some Hutts. I still don't know what I did. But they captured me and I was a slave for three years." He swallowed, trying to block the hideous memories that wanted to come back. "I... It was bad, okay? Really, really bad. I don't like to think about it..."

To his surprise, Slick hugged him back. "I don't wanna think about what happened to me, either. I just wanna know why they did it..."

"My _buir_ Jaster told me that some beings were just evil." He closed his eyes some and tried to block the tears. He held Slick close to him, suddenly praying to every god that he'd ever heard of that he wouldn't lose his kids like he'd lost his parents. "I... I had parents. I don't remember much about them, because I was pretty young when they were killed." He didn't say that he'd watched them die and heard his sister's screams as she was burned alive in their house. Jango had ran. There was nothing more a six year old could do. And then... "Then I wound up getting betrayed by the Jedi and sold as a slave. They're not as smart as they like to think they are." He bitterly turned his head. What was he supposed to do? "I have a lot of nightmare fuel, _ad'ika_. I know where you're coming from."

"I'm not little," Slick muttered. He curled up and pressed his head into Jango's side.

"You're eight," Jango softly reminded him. He was eight years old, forced to live in the body of a teenage male. He had to be going through mental hell right now. But Jango rubbed his head, enjoying the pleased sighs. He curled up some and allowed Jango to rub his head. He enjoyed being close to others, but this was a little bit much. Rex kicked like a bantha and Cody drooled.

Slick reached up and touched Rex's head. "They're so little, ya know."

"You should be that little," Jango softly said. He was just a child. Just a child. There was nothing more that he could do. Slick should have been that young, but his childhood had been stripped away from him. He was forced to be much older than he really was. Was this the reason why he liked cuddling so much? Jango quietly resigned himself to more bondage cuddling from his clones. Well... they were his kids, now. He was forced to care for them. Or was he forced? Jango didn't know. He just wanted to sleep, but that wasn't in the cards. Slick was here and he needed comfort. "I wish I could have done something different. Maybe told the Jedi to treat you like men instead of letting the Kamies do what they wanted..."

Slick snorted. "Ya think? Ya think we might have liked to be treated like humans?!"

"I'm sorry." Jango knew it was a crappy excuse, but it was all he had. "I... I had my orders. I couldn't go against them or I would end up _there_ again." Jango squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block the PTSD flashback. He didn't want to think about that freighter ever again.

"Who told you?" Slick looked up, very curious.

"I think the guy's name was Darth Sidious..." Just saying the name made Jango tremble and he clutched all four of his kids tighter to him. What was he supposed to do now? It wasn't like he could fight a Sith... could he?


	17. Help a Brother Out

Jango woke up with a crick in his neck and four little boys sprawled over his body. Now normally, he wouldn't mind people sharing his bed. That was just something he liked and he'd gotten in the habit of it when he was in the Mandalorian guard. He liked sleeping with beautiful women. Then he'd been made a slave and he was often on the receiving end of things, if you got the drift. It had not been a very fun ten years. The Hutts were bad enough, but that spice ship was the absolute worst. He had hated it. There had been nothing good about that hellhole. There never would be. Jango sighed some and moved the sleeping people away from him. He needed to get up as it was. The Mandalorian looked around some, not sure what to do.

What was he supposed to do? He owed Padme his life. That meant that he could offer her a life debt, but he figured that she wouldn't want that. She stood for liberty and freedom, not for slavery. It might have been "voluntary" slavery, but it was still slavery. She would never go for that. So he sighed some and wandered into the galley. Slick could use those skills he learned on Kamino to help care for the little three. His _vod'ikas_ would need the extra help. Jango rubbed his face some as he looked through the refrigeration unit. Most of it was labeled in Standard, but Jango had always been better with Mando'a lettering than he was anything else. He bit his bottom lip some as he looked around. Huh. What was he supposed to get?

"I thought you would like cereal." Padme walked into the galley after him and laughed softly. Jango rolled his eyes. Yes, he was going to be a single dad of three. And be a bounty hunter who was wanted by the Republic. And yes, he knew all the ways that this could go horribly wrong. Jango rubbed his face some as he considered. Anything he did would anger the Jedi. After all, he'd stolen Republic property when it came to the clones.

Jango shrugged. "I've been hungry to the point where I'll eat just about anything. Food is food. It keeps you from starving and if it tastes good, that's something better than it tasting horrible. But it doesn't have to taste good to keep you from starving, you know." He shrugged and grabbed the first thing he saw. According to the label on the box, this was some sort of dried fish. And juice. Because you had to have the sweet with your food. It was almost a rule. Jango got a pinch of it and took a bite. The meat almost melted on his tongue, it was that good. He noticed that Padme was giving him an almost concerned look.

"Uh... Jango?"

"Yeah?" Jango ate more of the fish and knocked back his juice. This was going to be the last time he could have some peace and quiet before he had to deal with the kids. And Slick. Because Slick acted like a kid.

"You do know that the fish you ate is usually hated by humans?" Padme asked. "It's been sitting in the unit for at least six months. I tried to feed it to my cat, but she wouldn't touch it."

Jango shrugged and inspected the meat. "I don't see any mold on it. So that means that it's good."

"Then I am not scrubbing down the refresher after you sick yourself." Padme crossed her arms and looked at him. Jango ate more of and went looking for the sticky rice. Or kelp. Or some kind of ginger sauce, because that was really what his breakfast needed. And if he was eating Gungan fish (that was what the box said), then he'd need the sauce. It was also a safe bet that the Gungans hadn't exactly followed the instructions when they made the stuff. If it was even Gungan fish at all and not some horrible knock off you got from the Shop-O-Dome.

"So what were you doing on Kamino?" Jango found old rice, ginger salad dressing, and spinach. There it was. There was his breakfast that would taste better than old smoked fish. He started stirring everything up and tried to ignore the vague look of disgust that she had. "Because I'm pretty sure that neither the Ritz or the Grande Coruscant have hotels on Kamino. Though I'm usually a hostel guy. They don't ask any questions and it's cheap!" Also, there was free food that usually tasted good. It was much better than anything Jango could actually cook.

"I'm doing work for a group that advocates clones." Padme grabbed what looked like bread. So she was a toast person? Weird. "I was wearing an iris cam the whole time."

"And that means that you have footage of me stealing clones." He gave Padme a long look as he stuck his concoction in the micro-cooker. He liked eating good for breakfast. Food wasn't always something that he had. That meant that he ate what he could get when he could get it. And this food was gonna be _so good_...! His mouth was almost watering just thinking of it! "Wipe my patterns? Please? I'm kinda wanted by the Seppies and the Jedi now. I really don't wanna go to jail and I can't sue the hell out of the Jedi from a jail cell."

Padme rolled her eyes. "I'll wipe your patterns after you get over food poisoning."

"This stomach is made of scrap _beskar_!" Jango bragged. He leaned back some and grinned at her. "What? I've eaten worse." And he had. Much, much worse.

"There isn't much I can do without tainting the footage," Padme slowly said. "And all they'll see is a group of clone troopers defecting. It's not like you screamed your name." And that was true, but Jango didn't want to take his chances. He sighed some and rubbed his dark hair. Jango was just getting a bad feeling and no, it wasn't from his choice of breakfast.


	18. Shoulda Known Better

So maybe Jango had been warned. And maybe he had known that a cat wouldn't touch the stuff. But at least it hadn't come out his mouth, that was all he was saying. Vomit was one thing. _Piryc shebs_ was another. But barfing all day? That was another. Especially in front of the beautiful lady. Jango wasn't going to lie, he liked Padme. She was certainly easy on the eyes. He liked her dark brown hair, her eyes, just about everything about her. But there was just something about her. Something... kinda cold. Like someone had been messing with her head. Jango bit his bottom lip some as he thought about it. Canderous Vizsla had said that people under a Force compulsion could kinda act like that. But why would she be saving clones if she had a compulsion on her head?

Jango rubbed his aching belly as he thought. So. Something was _definitely_ very rotten in the state of Denmark, whatever that was. Jango just remembered it from some stupid play that he'd been forced to read as a kid in grade school. Murdered kings, mad princes, possible incest... it would have been a great work, but it was so dark and dreary. Maybe it was the Warrior Culture thing, but Jango liked his heroes to have decent endings. Like that Cuhullin. So maybe the guy died at the end, but he at least went out swinging. That was the way things were supposed to be, right? You were supposed to go out swinging and not let the bad guys get you down. He grimaced some. What a fine job of that he'd been doing.

He'd been a slave twice and he was good and sick now. What a way to honor his warrior ancestors with the strength in his body. And what a _di'kut_ he was, too. So now he had to figure out what he was going to do with the mess he'd made out of himself.

Rex, bless him, was sitting with his _buir_ and quietly sleeping. Jango smiled some and rubbed the kid's head. What would he be doing without them? Making Boba hide in a ship when he got soused drunk? He grimaced some, not liking the sound of that. So maybe he had some scars. But that didn't mean he needed to be drunk, did it? The man sighed some as he thought. What else could he do? He was just one guy and he was trying to do the very best he could in a galaxy that did not Mandalorians. Plenty of his people were slaves, okay? So he could deal with the fear and the scars and all of that stuff. The man just sighed some and looked down at Rex. The fact was, the kid deserved another chance. He deserved the chance to grow up free. Not caged up like his _buir_ had been.

Padme looked over at him. She did look a little bit smug, but Jango ignored her. Most of the runs were gone by now. Now Jango had to figure out whatever hold it was on her. He grimaced some, thinking. Well then. This was going to be a little bit fun, but he could try it. Because someone had to be controlling the Senator. She was acting too cold, too reserved, to really be her. And Jango had a good idea of what she'd act like. She was supposed to be a Hell Cat. And instead...she was acting like some ice princess.

"I hate to say I told you so, but I told you so." Padme uncurled her legs from under her and looked him over some. Jango gave her his best charming smile. It didn't work, mostly because there was a drooling child on his chest and he needed to find the brown pants.

"Yeah, I know," Jango muttered. He looked up at her, trying to figure out who she was with. "You seeing a Jedi or something? Because you're kinda acting like them." Most of them were pricks, but there were a few that were nice. Shaak Ti and Aayla Secura? Two of the only ones to really care about the clones. "And not in a good way, either."

She blinked at him. "What do you mean?"

"You've gone from charming Hell Cat to ice princess," Jango dryly said. "I was there for Genosis, remember? I'm pretty sure that you're not all that icy with other people. And how am I gonna threaten you? I'm a guy with three kids and a bigger clone who needs some serious help. You... now, you're another story. You're kinda changing and not in a good way."

Padme shook her head some and got up. "I don't know what you're talking about," she calmly replied. But her eyes told another story. Before, they were a little bit glazed. But now? There was something of a life coming back to them. Jango cheered quietly. He, personally, hated the Jedi. And if he helped someone break the spell, well, he was going to play that game. What else could he do? Let someone else fall under the siren song of the Jedi Knights? He knew as well as anyone that the Jedi Order wasn't all the sweetness and light that they said they were. "And I don't know why my dating life is any concern of yours."

"Because I'm on a ship with you and my kids are there, too?" Jango suggested. "Just saying. I got kids. I don't need to be tossed into Republic lockup."  He turned away from her then, not wanting to rile her up. It was one thing to troll when it was just him on the line. It was quite another for him to troll when there were four kids involved.


	19. Coruscant

Jango needed a job and he needed a job that didn't involve bounty hunting. He was too laid up for that right now and besides, he needed to worry about his clones on Kamino. They had already combed through his DNA and deleted anything that they didn't like Jango didn't quite know how to feel about that. "Violated" was too narow a word for the disgust he felt. And sure, he would tell all and sundry that they had treated him well, but he knew that his clones weren't free. How many of them would die? Jango tried to ignore the fact that those boys had been sold as slaves and they would be sent headlong into battle before they were twelve years old. Enough during the height of the Wars of Excision, they hadn't sent kids into battle.

Bombing the hell out of each other with nukes was one thing. But sending _ade_ into battle when they should have been in school and just barely learning how to wield a blade? That was...wrong. Wrong on so many levels.

The dark haired man looked at the data-pad and glanced over at Queen Amidala. She needed a bodyguard. He'd done bodyguard work before and he even could get the armor for it. Mail order bodyguards weren't unheard of, it was much more common than one might think, but she hadn't taken one. Jango didn't know why. She had to be bored of the clones guarding her all the time. He glanced over at her, still a little unnerved by the changes in her demeanor. He didn't like it. Jango might know nothing about the Jedi (his favorite kinds of Jedi included _dead_ and _bounty_ , preferably **_both_** ), but he could tell when someone was under compulsion. He grimaced some and kept his eyes on her.

Skywalker. It had to be him. Jango had only seen the kriffer once, but there was something slimy about him. He might not even know that he had put a compulsion on the Senator. If he did, that made him so much worse. Jango needed to stay with her and figure out how to break the damn thing. He owed her. He'd been trapped on Kamino, would have been put down, and he would have lost Boba forever. He grimaced some and rubbed his hair. Jango didn't have any armor. He just had his own clothes and a blaster. He knew Backspace Biggs might brag that all you needed was a blaster and the star to aim it by, but Jango knew better. Having a little mechanical help never failed, either.

He missed his armor. That, though, was back on Genosis or Mace Windu took it for a prize. The dark skinned man slipped over to her, his footfalls like the footfalls of a large cat. Jango learned how to hunt like this back on Concord Dawn. "Hey, Padme?" She glanced over at him and he was happy to see that her eyes were warm instead of hard. Jango swallowed some. "You need a bodyguard. The ones you have _suck_. If I could get through and grab you with little to no hassle, then something is up. And I... I kinda need to get my boots back under me."

"You're asking me for a job." Padme sat back on the counter and rubbed her hair. "After you kidnapped me, dragged me halfway across the galaxy in your ship, got captured by the Jedi, and needed my help to escape. And you have the audacity to ask me for a _job_."

"Yup." Jango scratched the back of his head some. "I know it's... sudden, but I don't have my armor and I've got four mouths to feed, plus mine. Me and Slick could even swap, if you like." He didn't like saying it, but he needed a job. He needed a way to get some money and his boots back under him. "Look, a couple of flesh and blood Mandalorians has gotta be better than some Jedi who ain't even legal. That's all I'm saying." Then again, she was a Senator and she did get to make her own rules. To a small extent. The Senators weren't as high and mighty as they liked to think they were. Not even the Chancellor could really control the "deep state" and all the legions of bureaucrats and lawyers running around. "Or if you know where I could get a job that doesn't involve exotic dancing...?"

That would be just his luck. Show up for a job interview and get taken as an exotic slave dancer.

Padme gave him a long look. "Any reason behind that last statement?"

"Well, I was a slave to the Hutts and I do know how to dance." Jango shrugged some and rubbed his hair again. It was a nervous tick. The man shuffled his feet a little bit. He was so pushing it with this. The last thing he needed to do was make her angry. "I could dance for you, your Majesty. But only _if_ I get the job."

She shook her head some. "I would say you needed a reference and a resume, but we kind of already know you. Jango Fett, Mandalorian exile. Bounty hunter. A man who is supposed to be dead and has the sheer courage to ask me for a job." She shook her head. "You are a very strange man, Master Fett." Jango nodded some. He didn't make doe eyes at her, but he did just sit back and wait. Padme swallowed and her face sobered. "You made a good point, you know. A really good one. But if you do do this, you can't tell the press anything about my personal life, got it?"

Jango nodded. They would say things about him being her personal slave, but he could take it. The man had been a pleasure slave before and the last thing he wanted to do was get tossed there again. "My lips are sealed, your Majesty."

"Good." Padme leaned forward some. Jango almost couldn't help himself. It had been a very long time since he'd been with a woman (men were okay and everything, but Jamgo did prefer women). The last woman he had had... well, that hadn't exactly been clear cut consent on his part. He touched her shoulders gently. When Padme turned to look him in the eyes, he kissed her. Gently. Just feather light and he almost wasn't sure that he'd done it. But he saw the shock in her dark eyes and the sparks that hadn't been there before. There was a reason why kisses were so powerful in all the old stories. Jango shuddered some and looked down. He didn't mind it, but he hadn't intended to kiss Padme.

"Sorry," he whispered. Jango looked down. He wasn't going to get that job after all, was he?

Padme shook her head some. "What... what happened? Why am I here and...not on Naboo?"


	20. Call Me Padme

It was pretty easy to decide that Skywalker wasn't allowed around the Senator anymore. Jango had no idea how to explain a compulsion to her, either. He was as Force blind as the next fence post was, to borrow a term from a friend of his. Not that he would really consider Backspace Biggs a true friend... The man was a little too off grid to be friends with anyone. He'd proudly proclaim to the world how he was ready for the final ages and for some savior to come and take all the good people up to heaven on flaming chariots. Jango had done some digging on that religion after Backspace got "saved". It had been saying that the Apocalypse was going to happen any day now for the past several thousand years. It was also worth noting that Backspace still did whatever he wanted to do.

He settled down on the couch some and made sure to read the contract three times. Amidala had already told Skywalker that she needed to take a break from him. Something about having a hard time in the Senate and really needing to focus on her work, not on a relationship. If he bought it, Jango had no idea. He might think that she was just playing with him. If so, he was going to be in for a big surprise. The man shuddered to think of what would happen if the man really _did_ figure what had happened. It wasn't going to go well, that was for sure. He grimaced some as he thought about it. He would be making enough money to set some aside if he was killed. And Slick could always get a job. He'd care for his brothers.

Now he just needed the armor. Something not so showy. He was still using the name Jango Fett, but it was a common name on Mandalore. Especially Concord Dawn, now that he thought about it. Maybe he could have gone back and seen Sintas, if she still wanted him. Ailyn, too. But judging from the way Sintas had thrown things at him when he tried to go their last, she never wanted to see him ever again. He was _dar'Mando'a_ to her now. Just a disgrace. Not even worthy of being a Mandalorian. Never mind that he was descended from _Mand'alor_ the Ultimate. It had to do more with the man wanting to keep heavily armored men out of his wife's vegetable garden than it did anything else. It just wasn't done, to be more concerned with a garden than conquering.

He scrolled through some of the options, cringing at the colors. They were making _pink_ and _purple_ armor now?! Jango got the fact that Satine was urging a kinder and gentler Mandalore. More along the lines of Cassus Vhett and his growing of the economy rather than just fighting all the time and using nuclear weapons on each other. Part of Mandalore still carried that fine tradition on to this day. And people wondered why parts of Mandalore were first world and the rest was pretty third world. He rolled his eyes some as he scrolled through the stuff. He finally found a set that was steel and blue, his favorite colors, and he ordered it. Jango stretched out on the couch some as he glanced around. Padme. Where was Padme?

It was probably a good idea for her to get used to him hovering. They could start now. Jango slipped off the couch with surprising ease, looking around the neat looking ship. It wasn't a patch on his old ship, _Slave 1_ , but it was still pretty nice. He decided that he liked it and he smiled softly. The last thing he needed to do was overstep his place, but he didn't want her to get hurt. Especially if Skywalker figured out what he had done. The Jedi didn't strike him as someone who was forgiving and the last thing he needed to do was get her hurt because he was too blind to see something coming. Situational awareness was going to be on the menu for the next few weeks. Maybe they would deploy Skywalker to Mustafar. That would serve to calm him down some.

Or so Jango hoped. Jedi arrogance often knew no bounds.

"Padme?" He poked his head into her quarters and found nothing. Huh. That was odd. They were nowhere near the space port. He didn't hear the water running. Jango left that room and explored the  rest of the ship. No to the engine room. No to the hold. No to the bridge. He did find her in the galley, where she was making tea and enjoying herself some. The man allowed himself a small smile. "So there you are. I thought you blundered around like all civvies do. Like it has to do with those clothes you wear."

She rolled her eyes. "I write your paycheck, mister."

"Does anyone actually use paper now?" he asked slowly. "Or has it all gone electronic?" Jango actually didn't know and he was asking because he was curious. Not because he was being a smart ass. Mostly. There was still some smart ass in there, but only because he was Jango Fett and that was just the way he rolled. Honestly, he had no idea why Kenobi hadn't killed him when he had the chance. It would have saved him a load of trouble.

Padme shook her head some. "You know, I have no idea. I don't even think we use paper money now. It's all credit chips."

"What a time to be a hacker." And no, Jango couldn't slice to save his life. He left that one to the droids whenever possible. He looked over at her some and touched her shoulder. "You Maj-"

"Padme," she corrected. "Call me Padme."

Jango nodded. "Padme, we need to come up with a plan about you and Skywalker. Do you think that you could help me?" She nodded and his heart soared. Maybe, just maybe, they had a chance to actually make this work and not all die in the process.


	21. You Made a Mistake

Say what you will about him, as many beings did, but Jango wasn't a stupid man. He'd done many things over the years and survived things that would have killed lesser beings. His contact with the Bando Gora, for instance, likely wouldn't go well if a man didn't have a rocket launcher and a jetpack on hand to back him up. The Bando Gora didn't tend to respect anyone and their favorite method of getting new followers involved torturing poor fools who crossed their path into insanity. Yes, they really were that crazy. And yes, there was quite a high bounty on the head of the High Priestess herself, a woman known as Komari Vosa. Jango knew she was human, but she'd tried to kill him and came pretty damn close, too. There was something about being tortured by a Sith that made you look strangely at all of the other Force users in your life.

That was called common sense and most Force users, Jango had found, did not have it in the slightest. They seemed that being some sort of mystical space wizard meant that they could swoop in and cause chaos for everyone else without having any sort of repercussions. It got downright annoying if you were the rest of the galaxy that had to deal with it. Jango wasn't going to talk about all the times he'd had to pick up messes for the Jedi Order. And then he had to deal with Dooku. Or when he got an eyeful of that nasty thing that called itself "Sidious". He didn't know _what_ that thing was, but he was pretty sure that it needed to be killed with fire. Or a small bomb. Or one of the Force demon thingies the Jedi on the podium was currently droning on about.

Jango had no idea who the female was. She was some Mirialan, he thought, and she was draped in the same black robes all Mirialan females wore if they had the Force. He wasn't quite _sure_ what that little tradition came from, but it did help pick the females with the Force out. Mirialans didn't tend to be as wild as the Jedi tended to be, no jumping off of buildings and such, but they were said to be really good healers. This one was talking about the so-called Demon of Cheap Beer and the fact that half a dozen frat boys had been killed by the thing. If that happened, well, it was on their head, not his. The man rolled his eyes some under the helmet. He didn't think that watching the Senator was going to be this boring, by the way.

When was she going to start having risky karking in a corner? That was what all the Senators did in the holo-drama novels he totally didn't read...

The man looked down at his watch. The female had been talking for a good thirty minutes as it was, talking about there being rogue Sith on Coruscant and that one was trying to get up to some trouble. Jango really did not care. He needed something to do and playing tic tac toe with his helmet was starting to get old. He'd already beat the computer several times with Tri-Peaks and all the other games the thing had been programmed with. He really did hate it. Jango was used to the high octane world of bounty hunting, not the sheer boredom of waiting around and doing nothing. He also wondered if he could download a few more games or even get caught up on his reading. That said, he needed to go talk to Slick.

He quietly took his leave from the Senator and slipped out from the crowd. He took a deep breath as he thought, trying to get into the frame of mind he needed. His oldest son was trying his best, but he was stunned from the world outside of Kamino. Rex and Cody were taking it better. He just needed to get into the right frame of mind. Jango leaned against his wall and pulled the helmet off. He shook out his slightly sweaty hair and searched around for his comm. He just hoped that Slick wasn't having fun with his right hand again.

 _That_ had been embarrassing for all parties involved.

A cool hand gripped the back of his neck. Jango tensed and turned around, sharp dark eyes meeting one Anakin Skywalker. The Hero with No Fear glared at him some. There seemed to be a little yellow to his bright blue eyes. Jango drew back. He didn't need a fight. The man grimaced some and took a deep breath. He needed to get out of here. Skywalker wasn't stable. Jango tried to draw back, but Skywalker stopped him. The grip stung and burned. Jango realized that it was the prosthetic hand. The one that could crush rocks.

"What do you want with me, Skywalker?" Jango hissed. He grabbed at the offending hand. "If it's no skin off your nose, I'd like to call my son. He went to school today and I want to know how he did. So kark off!"

Skywalker glared at him. "What did you do with Padme, Fett?"

Jango groaned some. Great. Just what he needed. The last thing he wanted to have happen was his cover to be blown by a crazy Jedi. He huffed a little bit of a sigh and glared at the Jedi. "I guard her, Skywalker. It's what I do. She was almost killed on Kamino and it was only thanks to myself and my son that she didn't come home in a body bag. The thing with Dooku was done against my will. He said he knew where my sister was. And of course, I jumped on that. Only to find out that yes, she was still in a mass grave on Mandalore. That's all I've done, _Skywalker_."

"You still kidnapped her!" Skywalker hissed. "I know you did something! Did you hurt her? Touch her in any way?!"

"If I tried that, I'd be missing my _skanah_!" Jango hissed. He glared up at the other man. "No, really, she has a really nasty blaster in her boots. I'm not that stupid. Nor do I want to be emasculated." He rubbed his face when Skywalker let him go.

"You're making a mistake," Skywalker said. There was a little bit of malice to his words and Jango shivered as they washed over him. He'd just done something big, he could feel. He had no idea what he done, but he was shaken as he called his son. He just needed to get this out of his system, and quick. Before something happened with Skywalker.

He could feel something was coming. He just didn't know _what_.


	22. It's Been A Long Day

The last thing he needed to do was make an enemy of Anakin Skywalker. That might be a little harder than he thought, though. Skywalker seemed to be everywhere and he really was interested in Padme. That meant that Jango had to keep on the straight and narrow. And by default so did his sons. Slick wouldn't have any trouble with that because he was still in the military mindset. He was still very much a soldier and that meant that he followed orders. Rex? Not so much. Cody seemed like he was going to go off the deep end one of these days. And Boba was going to get himself in trouble before he could start to be a bounty hunter just like his _buir_ was. Jango just hoped that he could keep everything together. He had no idea what he was going to do, though.

"Hey, Padme?" Jango grabbed his wallet and his blaster. He needed to go out and take a walk. He sighed some, glanced at himself in the mirror, and adjusted his gun belt. The damned thing was slipping again! It was like he'd lost a little weight after his stent on Kamino. Not that Jango would put it past him. He'd been almost starved there and trained almost to exhaustion. "I need to go out, okay? I...just need to walk. Need to clear my head. Some stuff happened yesterday and I just need to work it out."

Padme slipped over to where he was standing. She was wearing a floor length black and gold gown, with heavy golden bracelets snaking up her arms. Her hair had been braided with yet more gold. Jango took in a sharp breath. She looked...stunning. Like a creature that was part angel and part woman. He moved closer to her like he was in a dream and rested his head on her shoulder. She was wearing some sort of perfume? It smelled like flowers. Sweet flowers that had just been washed with a rainstorm. He reached up one shaking hand and caught one of her dangling earrings. The former bounty hunter swallowed some. He didn't know what to say. She looked...simply stunning. Her dark hair had been caught up in elaborate braids and buns and the rest of it fell down her neck like a lion's mane of curls.

"You look... beautiful," Jango whispered. He drew back some and wondered what was going on. She looked like she was going to some formal occasion. Jango looked down at himself and down at his loose, dark trousers and his white shirt. It was gathered, much like a pirate's shirt, and he hadn't even bothered to lace it. He just had his ratty boots on, nothing like the elegant sandals she had to have on. His curly dark hair was tousled and Jango honestly didn't know if he'd bothered to brush it that morning. He had helmet hair as it was. Jango swallowed some and drew back. "What's the occasion? Do you have some place you need me to escort you too? Or... is it the opera?"

Padme shook her head some. "I'm working with Obi-Wan Kenobi," she finally said. "I'm going undercover for one of his missions and no, I don't think we can have a Mandalorian bounty hunter come along. It's...delicate enough as it is." She looked down some. "Do I look the part?"

"For what? You honestly look stunning and I don't know where you wouldn't fit in. Unless you're going to a dive bar and if you are, I could give you some of my old clothes?" Jango suggested. He shook his head some. He had no idea where she was going. He had no idea what she was going to be doing. He didn't like it that she didn't want him to be with her. The last thing that he needed was for her to get killed or kidnapped again. He had a feeling that Dooku still wasn't done. The man wasn't someone who would give up easily, Jango knew. The man was about as bad as Tobias Beckett, just with better personal hygiene. Jango wondered if that man had ever been introduced to a shower system. If they _ever_ met again, Jango was going to spray him down with a garden hose.

"I'm going undercover at a pit fight," Padme sighed. She sat down and worried the chair arm. When she looked up, her eyes were full of pain. "I don't want to go there, but it's... we need to save someone there who's hurt. Obi-Wan knows him and he feels that he owes the man a debt."

And that would do it. Jango thought for a few minutes. "What are the running at each other?"

"The main event is a Zabrak. And yes, we're after the main event. Once we get him safe, we can get all the others safe." Padme smiled like a nexu did, right before it struck. "I personally can't wait until we put them all in jail."

"If they're fighting Zabraks, this is a pretty high class place and I think you can get away with it." Jango offered her a little bit of a smile as he started to get his things together. "I am going out, though. I'm picking the kids up from school and I also needed to go to the market. I wanted make some kind of fish cury for dinner tonight. I got the recipe from some Ardennian pilot. It's good and I wanted to make some for the kids."

"I think I would trust your rather questionable cooking compared to what they're going to expect us to eat that that fight."

Jango snorted. "Cooking nerf bacon is harder than it looks and I don't think you'll be complaining about the food. The last time I was there, they were serving up high class food and all sorts of fine spirits. Of course, I also busted the ring up and blew the place up, but that's besides the point. Decent food though." Jango got up quickly and slipped a knife down his boot. He needed to keep his weapons close to him. The last thing Jango needed was to get jumped in the middle of the market. He shrugged some and headed for the door. Padme knew what she was doing and she was with a decent Jedi. Jango figured that she was going to be just fine. He still couldn't shake the bad feeling, but he figured that was from his run in with Skywalkers.

He sighed some as he hailed a speeder cab. Jango checked his lists and smiled some. The first thing he was going to do was get drunk and maybe get laid at one of the seedy cantinas more at the center of town. He leaned back some. Jango hoped that he was doing the best thing in spending a day out on the town. He had fifty credits in his wallet and he had an entire day to kill. He just had to remember to pick up the kids at school. Jango quietly made himself a reminder on his comm. He didn't need to forget his kids and he knew that he would never forgive himself if that happened. Jango looked around the cab. It was clean, which was odd for a cab, but he didn't care that much.

He just needed to get drunk or laid and pick up the stuff he needed at the market before getting his kids. Jango thought he could handle that.


	23. To Get Things Started

Jango was going to regret this in the morning. He usually did not mess around with Twi'leks, but this sandy brown female with her green eyes was really doing it for him. And it had been quite a long time, too. He made a low sound in the back of his throat and nibbled kisses up and down her necks. She made a soft thrilling sound, wrapping her t'chin around his wrist. As far as Jango knew, she was a spacer (no marks of her being owned--and most owners collared or branded their property), but she was one of the more conservative one. Instead of a headband, she wore a soft pink and gold veil and most of her chest was covered with the same soft material. Gold filigree jewelry covered the hem of her crop top. It went so well with her skin.

The Twi'lek rubbed on him. It looked like she was really getting into this one. "I'm Mar'vaja. I know you're the famous Jango Fett, too. Never did think that would would be interested in little old me." She grinned at him and he just about melted into the chair. "You can just call me Mar. It's what all my friends do." She twined her fingers up through his hair and made a low whining sound. "I never knew how much I could like a head of hair, you know? I really think that I want you."

He nipped her left ear cone. "I want you, too." Jango had three hours to kill. Sure, Twi'leks weren't the best for a quickie, but he figured that they could get it done in at least an hour or so. Jango _really_ wanted her. He settled back on her chair, stroking down her lekku. Mar arched herself up some and made a whining sound. She nipped at his fingers before pulling herself down on him. Jango gasped some. He was getting the feeling that Mar wouldn't be submissive like all the others were. And that was okay, because Jango was really okay with this. He brushed the veil away from her face and gave her a gentle kiss. Mar grabbed him back and five seconds later, she was all but kissing the breath out of him.

"I think I could get used to this," Mar murmured. She straddled his lap again and gave him a stroke in a certain place. Jango made a whining sound. Okay. So he liked this. Submissive females bored him and that was one of the reason why he didn't bother with most Twi'leks. The Darian woman nipped his bottom lip. He opened his mouth softly and guided her down to where he wanted her. Mar just wrapped her t'chun around his other wrist and kinda held him down. Jango whined a little bit. Oh, Force, how he'd forgotten that he liked this.... Mar grinned and gave him a few little kisses here and there. Jango turned his head, just letting her do what she wanted too. He really was going to enjoy this when it got to the good part.

"We can't go back to my place, but do you have one?" Jango rasped. No, he did not care that they were in a public place and people could see them. He was just needy right now. And tired of basically being on the couch because a crazy Jedi was in the life of the other woman that he wanted. Jango kissed her gently, wanting her to know just how much that he wanted her. He wanted her as much as or more than he wanted Padme. Mar dropped her hands down and stroked him to full hardness. Jango gasped some. Mandalorians had a loose grasp on sex and sexuality as it was. Just as long as he wasn't out there with animals or with small children, no one was really going to care. It was perfectly okay for him to want to be with a strong woman, or two.

Just as long as they didn't have chains and riding crops, he was going to be perfectly fine with it.

Mar pulled back from him, grinning at him. She took his hand. He walked with her, smiling like a loon. As soon as they were in the cabin of that skiff, he was in her arms and the clothes were off. Jango was loud, he knew, and he didn't care. He enjoyed every bit of Mar and she enjoyed every bit of him. They must have been at it for at least and hour. She used those special muscles, gripping him, more than once. Jango shouted himself hoarse. He'd forgotten how good it felt to get himself deep inside a woman and just let it all come out. As much as Jango was open to experiment, he wasn't into males. He'd tried it once. Just wasn't what he liked, though he had tried it more than once.

Jango lay back with Mar, humming softly. He needed to get up and get the kids soon. Or he could ask Slick. Well, if he trusted Slick's driving. The older clone really did try, but it wasn't that good. Yet. Jango needed to take him out to the polar wastes and let Slick drive around a little bit. It was a great place to get some experience. Much better than driving around in the chaos that was Coruscant proper. Jango really did not like this big city. Maybe he could take Mar and they could settle down in some little town out in the country. He shook his head softly. Maybe Padme would be okay with it. Or maybe not. He wasn't quite sure what she liked or not, though he hoped that she wouldn't be too mad about him having a little fun on the side. They weren't together, not by any stretch of the imagination.

Just because he might have wanted it to happen didn't mean that it would.

Mar kissed the side of his neck. "I didn't know that humans could get so rough." She gave him a dry smile, rubbing on the scratches he'd left. Jango gave her a sheepish smile. "So... are you local? Do you live around here?"

"I guard Padme Amidala," Jango murmured. He rolled out of the bed and grabbed his clothes. He really was fine. Twi'lek females were very different from human females and one of the ways was in the way that they were after a good fripping. They wanted to cuddle more. More clingy, not as ready to go again. Jango kissed her on the cheek and handed her his comm number. "I'm free, Saturday nights. Not much going on. My kids are with a friend of mine."

"Sounds like you do a good job of it," she laughed. The woman gave him a gentle smile and kissed one of the scratches she had left on him. Jango moaned some. As much as he wanted to go again, he needed to get some thing for his fish stew. Jango left her then and slipped through the city. The food wasn't that hard. Just some fish fillets, lemons, onions, spices, an onion soup mix, and cream. And rice. Maybe raisins if he wanted that. Jango knew what he was getting and he also knew what his kids would like. He had the brown paper bag on his hip, just as he was walking home, when a scrappy looking grey tooka ran in front of him. Jango almost tripped over it.

It stopped in front of him and made a pitiful whine. Jango sighed some. He didn't have the hands left to grab the creature, as much as he wanted it. But he fished out a piece of dried meat and tossed it to him. The tooka snapped it out of the air. Jango smiled softly and whistled some.

"Chaavla," he decided. The name meant "scrappy", but he figured that was what the cat would like. "C'mon, you." Chaavla followed him the entire way back to the apartment and curled up on the couch. Jango figured that he needed to get some kitty litter and a litter pan while he was out of it. Hopefully, Padme wasn't going to mind him having a tooka now. He was sure that the kids would love it.


	24. Chaavla

So it turned out that Jango had no idea how to take care of a tooka. He might not have had tookas as a kid, they had had more working dogs that protected the sheep, goats, and cows, but not tookas. Maybe they should have had some, because the rats in the barn had been almost the size of a small dog. Puppies had been fun, though. They were called black mouth curs and those were dogs that you didn't want to mess with. They had been big dogs, dogs that you didn't mess with unless you had some serious armor. They had attacked several members of Death Watch with the intent to kill and those guys had never been the same since. Jango had killed one of them. He still had a dog tooth embedded in his leg where it was too close to an artery to operate.

He glanced down at Chaavla, trying to figure out why she had shredded the couch cushions. Again. With her tiny little claws that were as sharp as needles. She was good at hiding, too. There was nothing like trying to put your boots on and then getting your toe shredded because a tooka kit had decided that it was a good idea to hide out there. Jango grimaced as he started to pick up the stuffing. Why had he thought this would be a good idea? Was it because he was that much of a glutton for punishment? He had three kids, four if you counted Slick as his kid, and he had a job that was taking forever. He didn't even have that much time to get with Mar again. As far as he knew, Padme wasn't even aware that he was meeting up with her at times.

The kitten ducked under one of the couches and hissed at him. She was protecting one of the feathers, so Jango let her have it. It wasn't worth gettig scratches on his fingers anyways. He managed to get all of the stuffing back in the pillow. Now he had to get it all sewed back up. Well then. He was a single man. When he needed new clothes, he went down to the docks and he bought clothes off the rack. When his flight suit tore, he went and bought another one. The only thing he knew how to really fix was his armor, but that was a case of just buffing out the scratches and welding things back together. Other, younger hunters might have wanted to keep the scars on their armor. Jango just saw those as an injury waiting to happen.

Chaavla hissed and darted right between his legs. She still carried that feather like some great trophy. Jango went into the kitchen, gave her a can of cat food, and sat down on the kitchen table. He needed another job. Or he needed to make a move and not talk to Mar anymore. He threw his head back, cursing under his breath. Mar had been a had idea. He'd just been too hormonal and too blinded to really see what was going on. Jango ran his hands through his hair and tried to ignore the tiny grey kitten pawing at his feet. She really did seem like she'd be a decent pet. She was just wild and probably only a few generations removed from the plains of Lothal. Jango gave her a tired look.

"At least you use the litter box," he muttered. Jango rubbed his arms, trying to figure out what he needed to do. "What am I supposed to do, Chaavla? Am I supposed to just grin and bear it? Because I really like this woman and I'm stringing someone else on. Don't get me wrong, she's a really nice person, but she's not the one I love. But I don't think I can talk to that one, because she used to be in a relationship with this idiot Jedi Knight. Now don't get me wrong, he's as hot as sin, but he was crazy and... I think I tried to break a spell on her. But I don't know if she likes me or now."

The kitten looked up at him with big green gold eyes and mewed before she pounced on his boots. Jango rolled his eyes some. What else had he expected, talking to a cat? It wasn't like she could talk back. And if he thought she was talking back, he needed to check himself into the nearest loony bin and call the Kaminoans. They might have a few instances of defective product. Then he swore under his breath and almost punched the wall. If he told Kamino that he was going crazy, they were going to kill all of his "sons". Just like what had happened with the Nulls. Jango had tried his best to save those boys and had even sent a few of them with Kal Skirata. He couldn't save all of them, though. He had only been able to save a few of them.

"I'm up a creek." Well, he was actually up _osik_ creek without a paddle, but he was trying to keep it clean for the kitten. He had standards, you know. Jango sat back down. What was he supposed to do? Pick up the comm and call the lady? Tell Mar that it was off because he was hopelessly in love with Padme Amidala? Well, he didn't regret his fling with Mar, but it was kind of rude of him to just break things off without an explanation. He didn't regret sleeping with her. And then there was this whole tradition of Mandalorian bodyguards being sexually available, but that was a whole nother thing. He just hoped that Padme understood that he was only available if she wanted him to be.

"I'm going to have to call her," he softly said. He sat down again and grabbed his comm. Why was he feeling like this was the hardest thing he had ever done? Because it wasn't. Not really. He had done much harder things, like kill Jedi with just his knives. He took a deep breath and started by dialing the comm number. Her private comm. Not the work comm, that was recorded after someone got in trouble for using phone sex hotlines, but her private comm that wasn't bugged. Jango looked at it, right before he sent the number. Padme picked up on the first ring. "Hey, Padme?"

"Jango? It's a good thing you called. We have a situation here and I need you in your armor. Preferably now."

_Well then._

"Ten four," Jango replied. He closed the comm, grabbed his armor, and had it on in record time. This was going to be fun, he was just sure of it.


	25. Down at the Docks

At least his armor came with a jetpack option, that was all he was saying. It wasn't like the new stuff kids these days bought: a glitz and bling and fancy rocket launchers when all you really needed was your HUD, a jetpack, and your blaster. Maybe a grappling hook built in if you were doing a bunch of repelling. But none of these wrist blades (but they were cool, he would have to admit), the thermal suits, and the f _reaking control chip to your freaking ship_ being embedded in your helmet. He was honestly going to blame Aurra Sing for that one. She had that radio and HUD system implanted in her brain, He figured that all the other dolts out there wanted to be her, so they had the next best thing done.

Because why not. When you were young and stupid, you did young and stupid things. For him, the case in point was that one time he tried to drink Tobbi Dala under the table and wound up almost dying from alcohol poisoning.

Jango ducked around all the early morning traffic as he made his way down to the docks. Was he bothers with the speeder? Nope. He had his armor and his flight suit on, so he was snug as a bug in a rug. He ducked around one careening air car driver and almost had a load of meliroons dumped on his head. The next was someone in some sort of winged creature powered rickshaw that almost took his head off. After that, he started flying lower. And after all of that, he finally got stuck in a sudden cloudburst and got soaked down pretty good as he flew. And then he hit the early morning traffic. What looked like all the mothers with children on Coruscant had finally gotten out to take those kids to school.

Jango buzzed a few of the skycars and waved to the kids inside. Jaws dropped and so did juice boxes. Jango had a good laugh..until he almost hit the side of a slow moving frigate that was definitely lost. The big ship seemed to be almost drifting and it seemed like the only thing that kept it from colliding with a building was the collision control feature. Jango flagged it for the local cops and kept right on going. Someone was going to get a nasty surprise in about five minutes. It was a pity he couldn't hang around, but Padme had said it was urgent. So he hightailed it down there and probably broke a few speed laws in the process. Then again, those things were made for aircars, not guys with a jetpack.

He touched down at the docks after about ten minutes, his cloak flaring out in great dramatic fashion because of the exhaust. Jango cut those things as quickly as he could and grunted as gravity took hold once again. He pulled off his helmet. "What's going on?" Jango looked around. "Is everything okay? Do I need to kill anyone or did the docking authority make a bad call?"

"We need you to help Senator Amidala escort a package through the city," a rather severe looking man said. He had one of those crazy buzz cuts going, the ones only skinheads or the career military had. Jango started giving him cautious looks. The last time he tangled with one of these, he'd wound up on a spice barge for several years and only barely escaped with his bits and pieces still attached. The man looked Jango up and down. "She says you're one of the best. If this man gets captured or killed, it's going to be on your head."

"That's enough, Commander Barkay," Padme softly said. This time, she was dressed in what looked like common spacer's gear and her dark hair had been pulled back into a long braid. She looked like that smuggler he'd met once or twice. Kaira...something? But she was young and she had hair as dark as the night sky. Padme's was much lighter, but he liked that. Padme took his hand and started walking him towards what looked like a derelict old hulk, dropped in the middle of this dock. Jango rolled his eyes. He was wondering if there was a racing motor in that thing, or something. She opened the hatch and he was honestly surprised that it was hydraulic.

Inside, it was a much different ship. Clean and new and fresh, with shiny chrome everything. It looked like it had just been delivered home from KDY or some place like that. The only thing he didn't like was the catwalk instead of the carpet, but it gave you a good look at the workman's shaft and also had spaces where you could install sneak holds if you wanted too. Well then. He liked this ship better on the inside. Padme started off at a sharp clip, her worn boots making a pleasing click against the metal. Jango hurried to keep up. He didn't bother with the helmet. The inside would just fog and he didn't have the time to play with the internal air conditioning.

She took him through the ship, into what looked like the sleeping quarters. Padme started knocking on one of the doors. "Llirok? It's me, Padme. We're going to get you home now. I've brought my bodyguard with me."

The door opened slowly and a wounded looking man, his face covered in bruises and his arm bandaged, looked at them. He mumbled something and bowed his head. Jango cringed. This guy was a mess. He looked Mandalorian, with the classic sharp features and the dark, almost almond shaped, eyes, but the way he hung his head was starting to worry the older man. Where was the fire? The spark? Where was what made a Mandalorian a Mandalorian? Whatever it was, it had been beaten out of this man. He didn't say much, just stood there and let Padme drape him with a cloak and hide his face. Jango cringed when he saw the telltale signs of shock collar burns.

"This the guy you were looking for?" Jango easily kept pace beside them. Llirok limped. Badly.

"He's with Obi-Wan at the Jedi Temple. He's in bad shape and there were kits, but they'll be fine." Padme rubbed her face. "It's just the dam I'm worried about. He's in worse shape than Llirok is and he had kits nursing off him for several years straight." She cringed. "And he's heavy again. He also trauma bonded with Obi-Wan, so he can have fun with that one."

Jango grimaced. He did everything he was supposed to do. He held the door, he checked for explosions, and he drove them back. He just didn't know what to do with Llirok huddled up in the back seat. Far be it from what Barkay said, no one really seemed to care about the guy. Maybe the commander had just had one too many drinks of caff or something. He still kept an eye on the man, though. You just never knew.


End file.
